Living A Legacy V!

[Murdoc]

Pure Class Entertainment Group presents

Living a Legacy V

From the Pure Class Arena in Greenville, South Carolina

Sunday, June 9th 2013

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, in a few moments ... Pure Class Wrestling brings you LIVING A LEGACY ..... FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

The cameras pan over the entirety of the audience, catching glimpses of notables in the building.

In the front row, a man and his lovely companion who have just recently parted ways with the company and shall NOT be named at this time sit ... taking in the excitement. She’s waving to the crowd ... her white hair standing out alongside her companion's full and bushy beard braided and hanging to the middle of his suit. The crowd knows who they are even IF PCW refuses to name them.  They erupt in a heavy mixture of boos and cheers for him. More boos than cheers The camera switches feed to a man who is identified as the NEWEST P.C.W. signing in Sterling Werner. The crowd cheers for the fresh new face as he panders to the crowd with a professional air about him. The duo who is responsible for tonight’s theme song, ‘Ceiling Can’t Hold Us’ ... Macklemore and Ryan Lewis ... are basking in the festivities as they acknowledge the crowd, their song blasting over the loudspeakers.

The crowd is pumped as the song continues, signs such as ‘The Hobo King Lives! And Smells.’ and ‘Durst is Living a Legacy!’. A few others are spotted out in the sea of humanity. ‘TIIT ... -Mouse. ‘Nuff said!’ and ‘Stomm’s a-comin’, batten down the hatches!’ are other notable discoveries. The crowd is pumped and the music dies out enough for Mark Long to resume his duties.

Mark Long: Before we OFFICIALLY start the event, I would like to inform you that videotaping and recording this show is strictly prohibited. Also, laser lights are not allowed in the arena. If anyone is caught with one, they'll be escorted out of the building by security and will not receive any type of refund. And last but certainly not least, the antics displayed in and out of this ring are extremely dangerous and are performed by trained professionals. You should not try this at home. All in all, sit back and enjoy the show!

Mark takes a a quick breath and continues.

Mark Long: It’s time to begin .... LIVING A LEGACY .... FIIIIIIIVE!!!

MATCH ONE

Tag Team Championship Match

The New Breed (Tag Team ©) vs. The Flying Freebooters

Referee: Austin Shaw

Mark Long: Introducing first, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada...

The lights of the arena slowly begin to dim, before going altogether dark. Hollow by Alice In Chains hits as the lights begin to flicker and the Freebooters enter, both just standing there, posing. The crowd booing does not faze them, as they motion for the crowd to get louder as they soak in the attention. As they make their way down the ramp and towards the ring, sometimes they will interact with the fans, usually mouthing off to them, or the Freebooter's favorite, flipping them the bird. Both men climb up the stairs, and climb to the turnbuckle's horizontally across from each other and beckon for the opponents to come from the back, taunting. Then, as the music is about to fade, both perform a back flip into the ring.

Mark Long: Weighing in at a combined weight of 370 pounds... Representing Marshall's Law... The Flying Freebooters!

Al Laiman: These fans needs to show the future PCW Tag Team Champions a little more respect I think. They ARE part of Marshall's Law after all.

Jerry Andrews: If the Freebooters want the fans to show them some respect, then they will have to do what the New Breed has done over the last few months and earn it, Al!

Mark Long: And their opponents... from Jacksonville, Florida...

Blue spotlight flash to life on either side of the stage and twirls away into the crowd timed to the beat as the guitars come to life and the beginning of Two Steps From Hell's 'Jump' begins to play. As the horns build to a crescendo, and the guitars really begin to jam, two figures are lit from under the stage in bright white spotlights as a cascade of red sparks falls behind them. They raise their arms over their heads holding up the PCW Tag Team Title Belts high.

Red, white, and blue fireworks shoot off down the ramp as the two men emerge onto the stage and the crowd can see for the first time that they are John Cable and Sebastian St. Paul. John and SSP rush the ring slapping hands with fans on both side of the aisle cheering wildly as the Freebooters clear the ring to the outside. The New Breed slides in under the bottom ropes as the stirring melody of the horns picks up and the crowd goes wild with cheers for them as they put up their fists like they are ready for a fight, then climb opposite turnbuckles showing off their Titles to the fans before they hop down into the ring again as the music dies out and the lights come back on.

Mark Long: Weighing in a combined weight of 530 pounds... The PCW Tag Team Champions... The New Breed!

Al Laiman: The Champs are in for a fight tonight, Jerry. I hope they don't actually expect to walk out of here as the Tag Champions!

Jerry Andrews: Where do you come up with the things you say? The Freebooter's are easily the underdogs here tonight, Al, and I hope they packed their lunches. The New Breed looks hungry.

Jerry Andrews: It looks like Sebastian St. Paul wants to start things off for the New Breed here tonight as he shoves Johnathan Cable towards the corner, Al.

Al Laiman: No doubt SSP is pretty upset about Wasp torching his one of a kind Durango the other day right outside the PCW Arena, Jerry. He probably wants to get some pay back, and here is his chance!”

Jerry Andrews: Wasp slides in through the ropes to start the match as referee Austin Shaw calls for the bell.

DING DING DING!!!

SSP charges across the ring towards Wasp immediately, rage burning in his eyes. Wasp, taken aback by the fury in his opponent, backpedals into the corner and ducks half under the top rope where Sebastian grabs at him over the top, but Austin Shaw slides between them and yells for SSP to get out of the ropes. St. Paul pulls back a huge right hand, but thinks better of it as Shaw gets in his face, an SSP begins to back away. Then, Wasp reaches over the ref from the outside and gouges SSP in the eye.

Jerry Andrews: What a cheap shot by Wasp there with the eye gouge on Sebastian St. Paul.

Al Laiman: It wasn't a cheap shot, Jerry. THAT is smart wrestling. A guy that can't see you can't hit you, and Wasp knows he has to stay away from these guys inside that ring or it's all over.

Sebastian clutches at his face and stumbles blindly around the ring as Wasps slides back under the rope to the warnings of Shaw about the illegal move, but he isn't listening. He is intently measuring up SSP, waiting... waiting... and suddenly, when Sebastian turns to see where Wasp has gone, Martin grabs Sebastian by the head and drops to the mat back first, drilling SSP with his knees squares in the face.

Jerry Andrews: Jules Martin with a HUGE Driving Double Knee to the face of Sebastian St. Paul there, Al.

Al Laiman: Wasp is being very careful to strike when he can get the most out of it, Jerry, and that is just what it is going to take to get a win here for the Freebooters tonight. They are going to have to set the pace and avoid making costly mistakes.

Cable is slapping the top turn buckle in the New Breed's corner now, chanting for SSP. Sebastian rolls to knees, and makes it to his feet as Wasp measures him up once more. As SSP turns again, Wasp launches himself off of the far rope and nails Sebastian with a Flying Elbow that sends him flat to the mat with a loud crash. Sebastian, sensing himself in trouble, rolls up again and gets to his feet, and is met in the center of the ring with a huge Cross Body Block, and Wasp goes for the cover!

1... 2... Th...

Jerry Andrews: No! Sebastian manages to kick out at 2 and a half!

Al Laiman: Now that was close Jerry! We almost saw new Tag champs right there!

Wasp gets to his feet as SSP crawl to the ropes and pulls himself groggily to his. Wasp ricochets off of the far rope and sends Sebastian to the outside over the top rope with a big Clothesline. Austin Shaw pushes Wasp away from the ropes and starts to make his 10 count, but Wasp wants none of it.

Jerry Andrews: Jules Martin is fired up right now! Shaw now trying to back Wasp up from the ropes... and LOOK THERE! High Tide is assaulting Sebastian St. Paul on the outside!

Tide lays the boots to SSP on the floor on the outside while Shaw tries to get Wasp under control, and John Cable comes running around the outside of the ring as Tide makes his way quickly back to their corner. Cable checks on Sebastian, and helps him to his feet as the ref finally able to get to his ten counts makes it to 4. SSP, finally regaining himself, rolls back into the ring breaking the count, but doesn't stay their long as Wasp drills Sebastian St. Paul with a Baseball Slide, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

Al Laiman: And if you don't let your opponent back in to the ring in one piece, he can't very well win the match, now can he, Jerry?

Jerry Andrews: A sound strategy for the Freebooters, for now anyway. But... they can't win the match on the floor outside either. Eventually, they are going to have to face the New Breed inside those ropes, and when they do...

Al Laiman: The Freebooters will finally take back their Tag Team Titles! That is what will happen, Jerry.

Sebastian rolls back under the bottom rope with his eyes firmly planted on Wasp this time as Shaw makes it to 8, and slowly circles the ring towards the New Breed's corner. Martin, not wanting to waste the punishment already inflicted here on SSP, rushes towards him across the ring, but Sebastian was waiting for him. SSP lifts his leg to go for a Big Boot to the face of the charging Wasp, but Wasp knew what he was getting himself into, sidesteps, and spins SSP over with a huge Twisting Dragon Screw take down.

Jerry Andrews: What A MOVE by Wasp! That Dragon Screw has been known to break legs and cripple opponents!

Al Laiman: The Freebooters came here tonight to take back those PCW Titles, and they aren't going to leave without them, Jerry!

Wasp quickly tags in High Tide, as they both swarm SSP, and John Cable is livid in the corner. Wasp Lifts SSP to his feet, drapes his arm over Martin's neck, and then Tide catches Sebastian's feet as Martin's lifts him up.

Jerry Andrews: The Freebooters have Sebastian St. Paul stretched out over their shoulders here like a living bridge!

Tide tosses SSP's feet to the side as Wasp pulls Sebastian into a Tornado DDT, the extra force of Tide's driving him hard to the mat. Wasp rolls to the outside as Shaw shoos him from the ring, and now, it is High Tide's turn to size up SSP. He lifts him by the hair, wobbly, to his feet, backs up a few steps and launches off the ropes, and attempts to drive a huge piratey boot right through his face, but Sebastian rolls under him, and leaps for the corner to make the tag in to the Beast.

Al Laiman: And John Cable finally makes his appearance in this match.

Jerry Andrews: And he is on FIRE as Wasp and Tide both rush him from the other side of the ring!

High Tide and Wasp run at John, who lays them both low with a big Double Clothesline, and fires into the ropes again, meeting both of the Freebooters with another huge Double Clothesline. Cable screams into the crowd as they go wild for the hot tag. Wasp rolls to the outside, and John lifts Tide to his feet, backing him into the ropes and Irish Whipping him across the ring. Cable steps to the middle, and plants Tide on the mat with a massive Scoop Slam followed swiftly by a Driving Knee Drop to the face.

Jerry Andrews: Johnathan Cable quickly changing the tide of battle here with a powerful show of ability!

Al Laiman: No pun intended right?

Cable now, firmly in control of the ring, measures Tide up as he makes his way to his feet, slides behind him, and cinches in on a Half Nelson, bending at the knee, and lifting Tide high into the air with High Arching Release Suplex. Cable rolls to his feet, and take Tide by the boot as he looks to the fans. With High Tides booted foot firmly in his hand, John steps his huge foot onto the other boot of Tide, and wraps his fingers around his ankle in an Ankle Lock submission hold. Tide looks to be in a great deal of pain as he flails his arms about, but Shaw checks to see if he gives up, and Tide says no.

Al Laiman: The New Breed is going to have to do more than twist Tide's ankle a little bit to get them to give up on winning back those belts!

Jerry Andrews: Maybe so... but what's this?

Wasp slides in through the ropes and nails Cable with a big Double Axe Handle that breaks his hold, and Austin Shaw pushes Wasp back to his corner warning him not to get in the ring again if he wasn't the legal man. As Shaw tries to get Wasp out of the ring, SSP slides into the ring and rushes towards High Tide, but Cable stops him before he gets there, and pushes him back towards their corner shaking his head no.

Al Laiman: What is Cable doing in there? Has he lost his mind?

Jerry Andrews: No Al, he hasn't. He's trying to help Sebastian stay on his new path, and not be the guy he used to be. I wouldn't expect you to understand anyway.

Sebastian, a little confused, gets the meaning, and makes his way back to his corner. John turns back towards Tide as Shaw finishes with Wasp, and catches a Superkick right in the mouth. Cable hits the mat like a ton of bricks, and Tide goes for the cover.

1... 2... Th...

Jerry Andrews: And John kicks out just in time.

Tide moves for his corner as John rolls to theirs, and both men manage to make the tag and slide out of the ring. Again, SSP and Wasp find themselves together inside the squared circle. The look each other over as they slowly circle the ring. They grow closer and closer, and finally, both men rear back and clash together with the first Collar and Elbow Tie-Up of the night. Wasp and Sebastian vie for control, back and forth, before SSP finally gets the leverage to back Wasp into the corner laying his face against his chest as Shaw slides in to break them up. Wasp raises his hands to signal a fair break, but Sebastian is hesitant, and rightfully so. SSP backs away a step, and Wasp drives a heavy boot into the side of his knee. Shaw leaps out of the way just in time, and Sebastian clutches at his leg as Wasp hops up and sits on the top turn buckle, drives his booted foot into the face of SSP, then springs to his feet onto the top rope quickly. With a flourish of his arms, Wasp flies into the air with an insane Corkscrew Plancha that just levels SSP.

Jerry Andrews: The fans are clearly not happy with that high risk maneuver as they take up the chant for the New Breed.

Wasp, sensing the end of the match, hops up, and rushes the ropes. He leaps onto the middle rope, and hits a huge Springboard Moonsault on the downed Sebastian St. Paul. Wasp hooks the leg and goes for the cover.

1... 2... Th...

Al Laiman: What is it going to take to keep the New Breed down here?

Jerry Andrews: Hopefully... a lot more than the Freebooters have to give, Al.

Wasp, frustrated, lifts SSP to his feet, and as he does so, Sebastian, out of desperation, reaches around his back, locks his hands together, and lifts Martin into the air with a text book Belly to Belly Release Suplex. Sebastian rolls to his corner and tags in Cable who slides through the ropes and goes for Wasp, but Martin lunges for his corner, and makes the tag to Tide. High Tide springboards onto the top rope, and launches off going for a big Drop kick from the top rope, but Cable sees it coming, and rushes underneath him, catching him easily over his shoulder as he falls. John drives Tide to the mat in his own corner with a massive Piledriver, and goes for the pin.

1... 2... Th...

Al Laiman: And High Tide manages to get his foot in the ropes and Shaw stops at 2; somehow, Tide manages to keep his team in this match for the Tag Titles.

Jerry Andrews: These four Superstars are at a fever pitch here tonight Al, and this is just the FIRST MATCH!

Cable drags Tide to the center of the ring by his hair as High Tide screams in vain. Shaw warns Cable about the hair, but John spins on Tide then, and drills him with a series of forearm smashes that leave him wobbly, then drives a boot to the midsection, doubling him over. Cable grabs Tide, and shoves his head between his legs, and pulls both of his arms up as he locks in for the Double Underhook.

Jerry Andrews: The Beast looking to put it away right here, Al!

Al Laiman: But look there! Wasp now, on the top rope!

Out of no where, Wasp nails Cable from the top with a Diving Shoulderblock that sends Cable sprawling across the ring as Wasp slides out under the bottom rope.

Jerry Andrews: High Tide and John Cable, both now face down in the ring as Wasp makes his way around the ring to his corner and ... St. Paul now taking his turn slapping the turnbuckle in the corner trying to urge Cable to make the tag.

Al Laiman: What a match-up this has been so far, Jerry! THIS is a match the Freebooters can be proud of when they win it all!

Tide and Cable struggle to opposite neutral corners as Shaw runs through the ten count. They each pull themselves up slowly in their respective corners as the ref makes it to 8, and finally face each other across the ring as Shaw gives the signal for the match to continue. Wasp and Sebastian St. Paul are stretched as far as they can, begging for the tag as their partners begin to circle towards them. As Tide and Cable make it about half way to their corners, they both fire into the ropes simultaneously and fly across the ring towards one another. John goes for an Elbow Smash, but Tide ducks and they come across the ring again. Cable reaches out for a huge Clothesline, but again, Tide ducks under and they come across the ring once more. John figures himself to be pretty smart though and stops in the middle of the ring waiting for High Tide with his arms held wide, and at the last second, Tide leaps up and connects with a Running Double Leg Dropkick that sends Cable flat.

Tide crawls over to the prone Cable and drapes an arm over his chest.

1 ...

2 ...

thre-NO!  Cable somehow manages to get the shoulder up at 2 and 3/4.  The rush of adrenaline coursing through High Tide's veins, he knows what time it is.  Ascending a neutral turnbuckle, Tide waits for John Cable to stagger to his feet in a daze.  The crowd knows what's coming!  A cheer erupts from the masses ... Cable makes the mistake of turning around ... SHOOTING STAR DDT!  About as picture perfect as one can get with such a technically difficult maneuver.  

The mat shuddering with the impact, SSP is quick to enter the ring and break up the eventual pinfall attempt.  Cue Jules Martin to even the odds.  The referee is slowly beginning to lose control of this one!  SSP and Martin paired off to the side of the ring, Tide is still riding that wave of adrenaline and feels the match in the palm of his hand ... rushes the pair and gives a huge shove as both men tumble to the outside.  Tide turning to face his downed opponent ...

... he is doubled over by a boot to the gut from John Cable.  A last ditch effort before his body gives up on him!  Hooking the arms, he gives a little hop and drives High Tide face first into the mat with a sickening Pedigree.  The Waking Nightmare!  Rolling High Tide over, Cable is able to do nothing but drop his exhausted body over Tide's prone form.

1 ...

2 ...

Jules Martin diving in for the save ...

... 3!

At the last minute, his foot is caught by SSP on the outside and the two are still going at it.  Cable's arm raised in victory, the referee points to the timekeeper and 

DING DING DING!

Winner(s): The New Breed Foundation via pinfall

Jerry Andrews:  We've still got a fight on the outside, Al!  Let's get some order here ... SECURITY!!

Al Laiman: The bad blood between these two teams just continues to build, Jerry.  Both can honestly stake rightful claims to those Tag Team titles after the neck and neck race that this match was.

Jerry Andrews: As security makes their way out to break up this mess, let's take a look at the bad blood rising between Stormm and Marshall's Law ... culminating in the Stormm vs. Skylar Marshall matchup tonight.  Roll it!

****

[Murdoc]

MATCH TWO
Genesis Championship #1 Contender's Match
Genesis Rules
Q vs. Anson
Referee: Marcos Cruz

And we're back from the video break with security having restored order and Mark Long in the ring ... microphone in hand.

Mark Long: Our next match is to be contested under GENESIS RULES and is for the NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP to the Genesis Championship!

A grinding guitar riff explodes from the speakers before a symphony of chaos takes its place. Screams and drums harmonize with the raging guitar chords that make up "Bonehead" by Naked City. The assault on the ears continues for a moment when Anson emerges from the back with Suende in tow. He stops at the top of the ramp and waits for Suende to catch up. And when she does, the duo head down together in tandem.

Mark Long: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds. He hails from Las Vegas, Nevada by way of Okinawa, Japan. He is accompanied to the ring by his mistress Suende! 

HE! 

IS! 

ANNNNNNNNNNSON!

She climbs the ring steps and waits on the apron while Anson slithers in under the bottom rope. He uses the top rope to pull himself to his feet before sitting on the middle rope. Suende bends over and slinks one leg into the ring before slipping into the ring. 

Al Laiman: Out first is Anson, with Suende not far behind. Jerry, these two had some pretty harsh words for Q in the build-up for tonight.

Jerry Andrews: Definitely right about that, Al. Anson and Suende had some very inflammatory words for Q that had the PCW fans buzzing for several days after. And Q ... well, Q didn’t seem so concerned about it. 

Al Laiman: Does anything really bother Q. Jerry? I mean, nothing seems to get under his skin. It’s hard to rattle a guy like that, and that may be his strongest suit. Well ... that and he’s completely freakin’ loony. 

The sound of rocket ships can be heard in the background, replacing Anson’s theme. The low ... but steadily rising rumble of engines. WHOOSH. KSSSSSSSSH. The doors open and ...

... out rolls the FUNK. The normal entranceway has been modified for this entrance ... a circular opening with rainbow colored lights framing the lone figure to step through them. Stepping out as the drums kick in, the crowd is DEFINITELY getting into the fresh, tasty jam that is 'Supersoulfighter’ by Lenny Kravitz. He's smiling and bobbing his head as he walks to the ring in step with the beat. Slapping hands. Kissing babies. Showing off signs dedicated to him, of which there are a few. He seems to be really getting over with the fans in his own Quirky way. The lights pulsate in multi-colored hues. the music kicking into full swing as he finishes his walk to the ringside area. 

The atmosphere has shifted from one of combat to one of FUN.

Mark Long: Introducing next, weighing in at 200 pounds ... 

Q calls out to Mark Long to correct that last statement.

Mark Long: ... correction, 199 and ONE HALF POUNDS ... and ... NOT FAT AT ALLLLLLLLLL ...

.... Q!!!

Q smiles and nods with a cheery grin as he hops to the apron and catapults in via top rope somersault. He hits the ground running ... a blur of color-charged madness! Dropping to his knees, he slides to the nearest hard camera and grabs it ... shaking it violently and letting out an eager and excited yell. Taking the camera for a few moments, he pans over the crowd ... capturing several people dancing in front of their seats and in the aisles. Putting his own face into the camera’s view, he remarks ‘THAT is a PARTY!’ before moving to his corner opposite Anson.

Anson hasn’t moved one iota and seems COMPLETELY unfazed by the sudden shift in atmosphere. Suende is on the apron, giving Anson directions and encouragement as Q has hopped onto the top turnbuckle ... laying across it and relaxing, beckoning the fans to get louder and louder. He’s loving every minute of it. The referee checking Anson’s attire for any foreign objects ... he seems satisfied and moves to Q. Q letting the ref check his MC-Hammer styled body suit ... he seems satisfied with this as well ...

DING DING DING!

... and signals for the bell.

Anson begins to move towards Q ... and Q rolls out of the ring. An odd start, as Q begins to fumble around under the cloth of the apron. Several moments go by before Q emerges. Rolling back into the ring, he has in his hand ... A TOWEL. He smiles and nods, knowing that Anson and Suende know the symbolism behind such an act.

Jerry Andrews: He’s showing Anson that the towel is ready to be thrown in at a moment’s notice. He’s playing his own brand of mind games ...

Al Laiman: ... which mean NOTHING to Anson. Q probably just realizes that Anson is brutal and vicious enough to make him CONSIDER having a towel ready to throw in on his own behalf. He’s giving a concession before the match even gets underway; he’s INTIMIDATED by Anson!

Anson is unfazed as Q beams to the crowd ... only to be interrupted by an Anson clothesline. Anson’s full body weight falling onto Q, it’s a crumpled heap in the center of the ring. Anson reaching his feet quickly, it takes Q a few moments longer just to make it to a kneeling position. Anson taking liberties with Q in his downed state, several heavy ... HEAVY shots are thrown, the impact bouncing around the arena. Q is rocked as Anson pulls him to his feet and fires off another heavy right hand. 

Anson bouncing off the nearest ropes, he drops into a VERY low dropkick that takes the knees out from under Q and forces him face first to the mat. Clutching his right knee, Anson zeroes in on the weakened appendage and drags Q to his feet yet again ... this time by his hair AND his right leg. Releasing the hair, Anson twists and executes a picture perfect Dragon Screw that forces Q to the mat yet again.

Jerry Andrews: Anson taking the lead in the opening of this match, he’s looking quite comfortable in owning the match thus far.

Al Laiman: You’re not kidding, Jerry. Q hasn’t been able to get off the starting line so far. He needs to do something or it’ll be too much to overcome later on.

Anson popping back to his feet, he begins to stomp at the injured right leg ... after all, what good is Q’s unorthodox and split-second defenses if he has no base underneath them? As Q begins to slowly drag himself to the ropes, Anson continues stomping and picking apart the leg as Q pulls himself to his feet finally. Anson whipping him across the ring, Q bounces off the ropes and, with a full head of steam, baseball slides through Anson’s legs. As Anson turns, Q is ready with a hip toss to answer the punch that Anson has prepared to throw.

Anson hitting the mat back first, he rolls through the hip toss and pops right back to his feet. He can feel the momentum shifting to a more fluid fight and is eager to put the kibosh on THAT. Rushing Q, Anson pushes Q towards the ropes but ... OUT OF NOWHERE .... Q does some pushing of his own! Several slapping blows to the chest that forces Anson back into the corner. Less pain and more force/annoying sensations, Q has no Qualms about taking the fight to the man who obviously wishes him no good.

Jerry Andrews: Will you look at this, Al?! Q actually bringing the fight TO Anson instead of hanging back and letting him make a mistake!

Al Laiman: If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would’ve never guessed it ... knowing what we know of Q, that is. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything but forcing the momentum and the ANGLES into his favor. Possibly more important than hurting your opponent. 

Jerry Andrews: Know a little something about playing the angles, Al? 

Al Laiman: I might, Jerry. I might. 

Wrapping his arms around Anson’s waist, Q pivots from his hips and literally forces Anson over and to the mat. A very sound tactic, as Q is now straddled atop Anson ... knees pressed to Anson’s shoulders and pinning him to the mat. The referee is in perfect position and makes the Quick two count. Anson fights his way from underneath Q and the two men are back on their feet. Anson no worse for the wear, albeit mildly surprised the the effectiveness of his adversary’s minimalist moveset .... and Q’s damaged leg. He seems to be favoring it little, but there’s no telling how much ACTUAL damage has been done.

The two move in for a collar and elbow tie up, Anson quickly wringing the arm of Q and cinching the hold in. Q is trapped but not for long as the single-letter Superstar Quickly takes the nearest knee of Anson and trips him ... dropping him to the mat. Spinning in circles a time or two, he ricochets off the nearest ropes and ... runs dead into Anson who has made it to his feet. Anson snapping off a standing hurricanrana, Q tumbling over to the ropes. Anson is right on his heels and literally MUSCLES the man through the ropes and out to the floor.

Jerry Andrews: This is where Anson hoped to get Q, out on the outside where he can REALLY inflict some damage!

Al Laiman: He’d better not count Q out JUST yet, Jerry! Q’s just loopy enough to dish out his own brand of punishment on the outside. We haven’t really seen much of Q in a brawling type environment.

The referee following the action to the floor, he warns both men against using illegal tactics as a disqualification would soon follow. Anson just lets a sly grin dot his skull-painted features as he drags Q towards the ringside barricade. Hooking the arm and the head, he kicks his leg back between Q’s and sweeps the leg forward in a Russian Leg Sweep ... it’s just situationally unfortunate that the barricade just HAPPENED to be there. 

The referee protests and gets right in Anson’s face, but Anson insists that the barricade jumped out of nowhere and he was just attempting to utilize the standard move. Q is writhing on the floor as the front row looks on. Suende is pleased with her ambassador’s ruthlessness and shouts for him to do it again. Anson, however, has other plans in mind. 

Dragging Q to his feet, Q explodes out of nowhere and whips Anson away. Unfortunately for Q, Anson has the wherewithal to reverse it and whip Q towards the steel ringpost. Anson following Q a half step behind, he finds himself coming to an abrupt stop as the corner post rushes in to greet him; Q literally DIVES under the bottom rope across the canvas to the other side to avoid the face full of steel.

Jerry Andrews: Unparalleled ring awareness, Al! Have you ever seen anything LIKE that?

Al Laiman: I can’t say that I have, Andrews. That right there was an impressive display of athleticism. I never would’ve pegged Q for something like that.

Q rising to full height after a few moments, he begins to move around the ring towards Anson who is nursing his left shoulder. Q displaying great sportsmanship, he helps Anson to his feet not by his hair but by his good shoulder and slaps him on the injured shoulder before rolling back into the ring. A mistake, but a painful one. Anson conferring with Suende on the outside, Q moves towards the center of the ring ... a slight hitch in his step. 

The playing field seems to be level as Anson returns to the ring. Q takes off like a bat out of hell towards Anson and ... stops just in front of him? Anson looks surprised as Q stares at him. His cheeks puff up ... bulging ... and a final spasm. Anson averting his eyes immediately, Q sticks his tongue out at the retreating Anson and laughs as he takes down Anson via roll up.

1 ...

2 ... 

Anson kicks out at two and Q is on the offensive! Anson pushing to his feet, Q casually sweeps the left leg out from underneath Anson ... dropping him to the mat once again. Anson nipping up this time, Q does the same thing once Anson lands firmly on his feet ... and sweeps the RIGHT leg this time, sending Anson back to the mat. A third attempt, Anson rolls past Q and pops up behind him. Hooking the head, he falls with Q on his shoulder and plants him with a thunderous neckbreaker. A float over ...

1 ...

2 ...

...th-NO! Q kicks out at the last second. 

Jerry Andrews: Q got caught that time, Al ... and it wasn’t pretty. Q almost lost it all that time.

Al Laiman: He went to the well one TOO many times, Jerry. You can never rest on your laurels in the ring. You have to keep one step ahead of the game.

Anson still a bit shaken from the up-and-down, up-and-down ... he moves to his feet and brings Q with him. Hooking the arm, Anson pops his hips and snaps off a suplex that leaves Q in pain on the mat. A flash and Anson is off the ropes ... FLASHING ELBOW! The impact sends shockwaves through Q’s body as Anson quickly drops back on top of him for another pinfall attempt.

1 ...

2 ...

thre-NO! A kickout at the last possible second! Q’s in big trouble here, and the fans are rallying behind him, trying their best to get the man back to his feet. Anson, however, is NOT a fan and does more to help Q than anyone else ... roughly manhandling Q to his feet. Q on spaghetti legs, Anson drops Q to a knee and takes a few large steps back ... then CHARGES! Anson planting his lead foot on Q’s knee ... he positions himself perfectly for a Shining Wizard! However ... the weight too much for Q’s weakened frame ... he collapses under Anson’s pressure and falls to the mat ... actually MISSING the devastating knee and sending Anson tumbling through to the other side.

Anson turning quickly to keep Q in his view ... he looks to Suende who motions for Anson to end the match. It’s time to finish him! Anson dragging Q to his feet, Q bursts to life and forces Anson back to the corner with every bit of might afforded to him. Unfortunately for everyone involved ... the referee just happens to be on the wrong end of the action and is sandwiched between the combined weight of Anson and Q ... with the turnbuckles giving even less. 

Everyone collapsing to the mat, Anson is on one knee by the referee who is prone ... Q is rolling out of the ring to avoid being pinned or beaten up any more. As the crowd buzzes for the sudden turn of events ... they let out a cheer as Q grabs ... A STEEL CHAIR?!

Al Laiman: This will get Q disQualified if the referee sees it! 

Jerry Andrews: The referee is DOWN, Al! He won’t see it! Besides ... is Q -really- going to use a steel chair? That seems so ... so ... un-Q-like!

Al Laiman: Maybe NOW we’re seeing the TRUE Q ... a man willing to do whatEVER it takes when the chips are down. I LOVE IT!

Q rolling back into the ring with the steel chair, he uses it to push himself to his feet. Getting the kneeling Anson in his sights ... he races at his opponent with a blood-curdling roar of anger and ... RED MIST! Anson retaliates with the red mist! The red spraying everywhere, Anson is SHOCKED to find Q ... hiding behind the chair like a shield. The chair has deflected the Red Mist! Q looking at the chair and then to Anson, he wipes the dripping red off the seat of the chair and SMACKS it against the canvas. The loud clang ringing out, Q hurls the chair at Anson and drops to the mat DEAD!

Anson catching the steel chair, he takes a few steps from the corner ... away from the ... stirring ... referee. Q quickly wiping his forehead with the mist-covered hand, he smiles and gives a thumbs up as he returns to death. The referee staggering to his feet ... he looks at the chair covered in what appears to be blood firmly in Anson’s hands ... with Q laid out mid-ring with blood dripping from his forehead to the mat. He looks between the two and ...

DING DING DING!

... calls for the bell to signal the end of the match! Anson has just been DISQUALIFIED!

The referee moving to the motionless Q, he nods at Mark Long as he raises Q’s hand from the mat.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen ... your winner by DISQUALIFICATIOOOOON .... Q!!!

Winner: Q via Disqualification

As the referee helps Q to a sitting position, Suende hits the ring and, alongside Anson, protest the decision. The referee argues right back, pointing out that Q is bleeding on the mat and the chair that did it is in Anson’s hands! As Anson goes to point out that the red is simply mist ... oh wait. That is illegal as WELL! Anson having no real way to explain the situation without implicating himself in the use of an illegal weapon or tactic, his protests fall on deaf ears as Q ‘wearily’ celebrates his way up the ramp as we go backstage.

[Murdoc]

****

Interviewer Shane Dodge is standing by with one of the finalists in the Icemann Invitational Tournament, the undefeated Kelli Starr. Kelli looks a bundle of unbridled excitement as she stands there, her first REAL interview on her FIRST pay-per-view. Lot of firsts for this young lady, let’s listen in ...

Shane Dodge: I’m standing here with ‘Dollface’ Kelli Starr, who tonight will go head-to-head with a VERY decorated PCW talent in Ace Anderson. Kelli, you’ve gotten through the tournament with a chaotic blend of skill and luck. Do you think that will be enough to carry you through to the Genesis championship and the winner’s circle of Icemann Invitational TournamentI’?

It’s readily apparent that Kelli Starr is eager to get in the ring tonight. It’s an exciting night for her, to be sure. An unblemished record with the chance not ONLY at the Genesis championship, but a CONTINUED undefeated streak AND a shot at ANOTHER title of her choosing. It’s good to be Kelli Starr, tonight. Well ... other than the fact that she’s facing off against Ace Anderson.

Kelli Starr: Between you and me, I wasn't expecting to get this far! No one else really expected me to either, though, so there's a point for chaos! Honestly? I'm here to party! If I win? Awesome. If I lose? That's okay too!

Shane Dodge: If you DO manage to get past Ace with the big 'V', and I'm not suggesting you look PAST him ... what's next for Kelli Starr? You've had a very meteoric rise so far. What's on your agenda?

Kelli seems to consider this more than the last question, almost as if a ... PLAN ... or an agenda ... hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Kelli Starr: I want to hold every belt PCW offers at least once. I'll be here for as long as it takes, up against as many people as it takes. If I lose this shot to pick the belt I'm after, I'll be put chasing another one. That's the cool thing about not having ANY of them yet - any direction is pretty much good for me!

Shane Dodge: Very optimistic of you, Kelli. Do you feel that with your ... BRIGHT ... personality, that people will target you more? Especially WITH the amazing start you've had leading into tonight.

Kelli Starr: Well, let's take a serious look at this. I mean SUPER CEREAL, right? First, you've got JoDee Burns. She's already gone. Then you've got Majors, and he seems to have way more than enough to focus on as it is. Then you've got Grimm who...well, honestly? I hope I don't face him again any time soon, that match was close enough as it was, I don't wanna see how he is when VENGEFUL, you know? Anyway...I don't really think anyone is going to target me specifically, not unless I get ahold of a belt they want.

Shane Dodge: Kelli, you've got a match coming up here fairly soon. Any last words before we head back to the action?

Kelli Starr: Want some candy?

With this, she produces a fist full of Jolly Ranchers and Jelly Bellies and offers them to Dodge. Without missing a beat ....

Shane Dodge: ... Kelli Starr, ladies and gentlemen! Good luck ... _{you’re going to need it.} Al ... Jerry? Back to you!

****

[Murdoc]

MATCH THREE

Special Attraction Singles Match

Grimm vs. Non Compos Mentis

Referee: Steve Shaw

A lone spotlight illuminates the entryway as "Winter Shaker" seeps from the speakers. Phinehas Grimm steps out to bask in the light and shadows, head bowed, arms limp, with rogue strands of dripping hair hanging in his face. He takes it all in for a few moments before making the long walk to the ring, ignoring the fans along the way while Wovenhand continues his serenade.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, THIS ... is your special attraction of the EVENING!!

Phinehas climbs up onto the apron and slides in between the ropes. Hopping up onto a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Phinehas drops down and waits in his corner, listening for…

“SCUM OF…THE EARTH… COME ON!”

The heavy beat of drum and harsh guitar kick in immediately after hearing the voice of Rob Zombie blasting over the PA system. Instinctively the crowd boo as the images of the notorious ‘Born Psycho’ flash across the Tron. The PCW Faithful waits with no lack of vocal attacks for the man himself to arrive but he holds back until Mr Zombie’s voice erupts once more.

“YEAH! RUN AND KILL, DESTROY THE WILL, A HERO THAT DOESN’T EXIST! YEAH! SMOKING GUN, WELL I AM THE ONE, A BULLET HOLE IN YOUR FIST! YEAH!”

Non Compos Mentis walks out onto the stage and the chorus of jeers grows to an even higher level. The man himself merely grins a sadistic smile and holds his arms out in a cross, welcoming the hateful shouts all around him. Revelling in the chaos he begins to make his way down to the ring, striding down the ramp with confidence and purpose as the refrain hits.

“I’M BREATHING! I’M BLEEDING! I’M SCREAMING! SCUM OF… THE EARTH… COME ON!”

He reaches the ring and hops onto the apron as the second refrain smashes through the sound system, raising his arm into the air to infuriate the fans further, still grinning.

“I’M BREATHING! I’M BLEEDING! I’M SCREAMING! SCUM OF… THE EARTH… COME ON!”

The powerful, frenzied beat goes on as NCM climbs into the ring and sends an evil look toward the referee before removing his tattered denim jacket and handing it over, then retreating to his corner and finally setting his eyes on his opponent. The two are eyeballing each other with every ounce of hatred and venom mustered, the crowd is hushed as Mark Long returns to the mic.

Mark Long: Introducing first, he hails from the streets of Buffalo, New York and weighs in tonight at 255 lbs. ... he is the BORN PSYCHOOOOOO ... NON! COMPOS! MENTIS!

If the man moves, it doesn’t register to the naked eye.

Mark Long: His opponent, weighing in at 217 lbs ... he hails from HANGTOWN, KENTUCKY .... this is The ABOMINATION OF DESOLATION .... ladies and gentlemen ....GRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMM!

Grimm moves even less than his opponent did.

Steve Shaw looks at both men and prepares himself to referee hell on earth before signalling for the bell and… nothing happens. Both men stay still in their corners simply staring at each other with evil intent.

Jerry Andrews: I don’t know what’s more scary, these two beating the hell out of each other or just staring.

Al Laiman: What if they both turned to look at you right now, Andrews, how scary would that be?

Andrews doesn’t say another word as Non Compos Mentis and Grimm finally move, walking toward the centre of the ring and circling tentatively. Neither man seems too intent of throwing the first blow at this point, but NCM looks to be enjoying the calm before the storm. His jaw is loose and words are spilling out, almost as if he doesn’t know it. The cameras are just close enough to pick up some of the words.

“I took from you what mattered most! I turned your PCW World Title into dust! What are you doing to do about it?” Grimm barely reacts, merely continuing his slow circling around the middle of the ring, scouting Mentis hard. “Are you angry? You want to make me ‘snap crackle and pop’? Take your best shot!”

After uttering these words, Mentis does the unthinkable. He drops his guard, ceasing his movement and offering Grimm a free shot at his chin. The action in the ring seems to cease entirely for a few moments as the crowd scream for Grimm to attack. The Lord of Misrule stares uneasily at Mentis for a second… then shrugs his shoulders almost imperceptibly and launches forward, connecting on the jaw with a vicious right.

Jerry Andrews: Mentis is insane! You don’t just offer Phinehas Grimm a free hit!

Al Laiman: ‘Mentis is insane’? Understatement of the century, thanks for stating the obvious, Andrews!

Grimm fires off a blurring flurry of shots, knocking a surprised NCM backwards to the ropes. Even as he hits them, Grimm does not relent and hammers away against a defenceless Mentis with punch after punch after punch. Finally he pulls back at the urging of Steve Shaw’s four count but only long enough to hit the ropes, rebound and rip a reeling Mentis’ head off with a huge Lariat! The crowd goes wild as Grimm hits the ropes again, catching his recovering opponent with another fierce Lariat across the throat. Still NCM refuses to stay down and Grimm hits the ropes a third time, this time completely confusing his opponent by hitting a running Basement Dropkick.

Dropping to a knee, Mentis can only watch as Phinehas repeatedly lifts his boot into his face with a series of crunching Step Kicks. Soon the ‘Born Psycho’ is so debilitated he almost collapses to the mat but somehow stays on a knee. Grimm ceases his onslaught to hit the ropes one more time and… Mentis rises, catching Grimm and spinning into a ring-shaking Spinebuster!

Jerry Andrews: Mentis caught Grimm in a rare moment of distraction. Do you think he planned to make Grimm that angry so he could capitalise on the openings it would present?

Al Laiman: Maybe, all I know is that when you make Grimm angry, bad things happen!

Mentis shakes off the repeated blows to the head only to hear the boos of the crowd renewed. His only acknowledgment of the jeers is another sick grin leaking onto his face as he slams a stomp into the sternum of his opponent. The driving kicks continue as NCM slams his boot down onto the chest of Grimm time and time again. Unpredictable as ever, in the middle of the stream of boots Mentis suddenly drops with a sudden and violent elbow drop, pinning in the process.

One…

Tw..NO!

Grimm kicks out but is immediately set upon with a volley of sharp mounted punches as Non Compos Mentis tries to keep the pressure on. With enough damage done to keep his opponent down, Mentis gets to his feet and drops straight back down with a knee across the chest. Instead of removing it he simply moves it further up and into the throat of Grimm with a blatant choke.

Shaw counts to four before Mentis pulls his knee away, only to drop it straight across the forehead of his rival. The referee can only protest as NCM shoos him away and drags Grimm back to his feet. Pushing Grimm back into the ropes, Mentis uses them as a slingshot and sends him across the ring. He waits for his opponent to rebound before hitting a running Back Elbow that sends Grimm to the mat again. His spirit isn’t broken though as he pushes himself back to a knee and Mentis replies with another jaw-jacking Back Elbow.

Still Grimm doesn’t give up and he gets back to his knees. Mentis hits the rope once more and Grimm erupts from the canvas and connects with a Spear that almost cuts NCM in half!

One…

Two…

NO!

NCM kicks out this time and Grimm shakes off the cobwebs to go back on the offensive. He pulls NCM back to his feet and unleashes a combo of strikes that target every portion of his rival’s body. Kicks, punches, elbows and finally a disorienting Bell Clap leave Mentis groggy on his feet and Grimm sees his chance to make NCM pay. He hits the ropes and rebounds with pace before leaping forward and wrapping his arms around NCM’s head in a Sleeper type hold…

Jerry Andrews: Lament Configuration?!

…and tries to drive Mentis down. Mentis, however, stays on his feet and rotates through the hold. Holding Grimm around the waist, Non Compos Mentis hauls him into the air and plummets backwards, hitting a neck-breaking Backdrop Driver!

Al Laiman: Back To Madness instead!

Both men are slow to react but eventually it is Mentis who moves first and climbs uneasily to his feet. Pulling Grimm’s body off the mat, Mentis shoves him forcefully into the ropes and methodically wraps each arms over the top rope, locking him in place helplessly. With no defence, Grimm cannot block the volley of quick fire punches that hammer into his chest and gut, driving the air out of his lungs.

The crowd’s disapproval can be clearly heard but Mentis reacts only with a smile and suddenly turns to the opposite ropes. He rebounds like pace and carries it across the ring before slamming a knee into the unblocked midsection of his opponent. Seeing the legendary Grimm so vulnerable, NCM can’t help himself and he hits the ropes again, rebounding and hitting another completely unprotected Kitchen Sink knee strike.

NCM turns and rushes the ropes once more, hitting them harder than before and coming back fast. He closes on Grimm who still isn’t moving… and then suddenly drops, his arms dislodged and pulling the top rope down. Moving too fast to stop, Mentis careers straight over the top and just about manages to catch the ropes, holding himself on the apron.

Grimm rolls himself out onto the apron and gets onto his feet, staring straight at his opponent. Neither man seems eager to get back into the ring to continue the fight, instead they continue it right there as Grimm fires off a right hand. NCM replies and the two go back and forth with violent strikes that rock the other harder and harder each time. Right after right is hit with neither giving any quarter until, finally, Grimm knocks Mentis back slightly and unleashes a fierce Roundhouse Kick to the skull that is heard all around the arena. Collapsing off the apron, Mentis tries to stay on his feet but his equilibrium is shot to hell and he stumbles around at ringside.

The Lord of Misrule stares down at his enemy and something snaps, something releases any humanity left in him. He suddenly lurches forward and the blur of orange beard throws itself off the apron, grabbing onto NCM’s head and twisting around in mid air. The crowd are in awe as he turns and drops and drives Mentis’ head into the floor with a truly devastating Tornado DDT!

Jerry Andrews: Harvest! The Harvest off the apron to the outside of the ring!

Al Laiman: NCM has to be out cold, he HAS to be!

The referee begins his mandatory count as Grimm stirs but Mentis remains totally out cold.

1… 2… 3…

Grimm scrambles to his feet and pushes himself back in the ring, watching the referee continue with his count. As he does, the crowd begins a ‘Grimm! Grimm! Grimm!’ chant to salute his devastation and hope for his victory. Still, Mentis isn’t moving.

4… 5…

Now Mentis begins to stir and pulls his head off the ground, showing a growing red spot where his face had by laying. The blood is flowing from his forehead as he groggily tries to get his bearings.

Jerry Andrews: Mentis is busted open! But he’s up and moving! I don’t know how but he’s moving!

6… 7…

The ‘Born Psycho’ finally realises the situation he is in and pushes himself back to his feet with extreme unease. He stumbles around, looking for the ring in vague hope rather than knowledge and decides upon a direction.

8… 9…

Mentis, on his wavering legs and unsure exactly where he is, dives forward just as the referee mouths the final digit and… he makes it! Mentis’ eyes light up like the Christmas morning as he realises he ended up in the ring, while Grimm merely issues a grunt of frustration and attacks.

The red haired icon slams a boot into the top of NCM’s bloody head and follows it with another couple of blows before pulling him back to his feet. Grimm quickly hits a whiplash-inducing Snapmare. Without hesitation, Grimm rushes the ropes and bounces back at pace. Mentis can’t lift his hands fast enough to block the incoming Running Dropkick that takes his face off!

One…
Two…
TH…NO!

NCM pushes a shoulder up as the blood from his face smears over the shirt of Grimm. The Hangtown Horror doesn’t care about the growing spots of crimson and yanks his enemy up, continuing with the bludgeoning strikes with a series of whipping chops to the chest. Finally he grabs the arm of Mentis and throws him across the ring. As Mentis rebounds Grimm hits a running Back Elbow, followed by a quick fire second as Mentis tries to recover and fails.

On the third attempt to get up, NCM blindly rushes forward and swings for a clothesline, but Grimm manages to duck. With Mentis off balance, Grimm takes advantage and hooks his head from behind, driving his opponent down with a brutal Reverse DDT. Now that both sides of his opponent’s head have been thoroughly bludgeoned, Grimm looks around and sees his chance to put the match away. He heads to the corner and climbs to the outside, ready to go high risk.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm’s going to the top, maybe time for the Sword of Heimdall. I’m not sure NCM can survive another shot like that to the head.

Grimm begins to climb and makes his way up to the top rope with much encouragement from the PCW Faithful, all cheering him on. He reaches the top and sets himself, ready to leap off with the spectacular Diving Headbutt…. When out of nowhere Mentis burst into him with a skull-shuddering Yakuza Kick. Grimm almost fall backward off the turnbuckle but saves himself as Mentis climbs onto the second rope and starts hammering away with frenzied blows. Grimm tries to fight back but the barrage is thick and he is forced to wait for an opening. He finds one soon enough and lunges forward with the top of his head, connecting with a solid headbutt that forces NCM back into the middle of the ring.

He is not deterred, however, only angered. Mentis rushes headlong back into the corner, jumps onto the middle rope and takes hold of Grimm. No headbutt stops what is coming as Mentis overpowers his opponent and throws him overhead in a colossal Avalanche Uranage!

Grimm somehow stirs on the mat while Mentis is too tired to get up too. Both men take a few moments to assess their damage and finally begin to move. At equal speeds, Grimm and Mentis struggle back to their feet and the crowd are getting heavily behind Grimm. Before he can go on the offensive, though, Mentis summons the energy to sprint forward and the lashes out with his left arm, clotheslining his opponent over the top rope to the outside.

Pushing himself laboredly up on the outside, Grimm leans against the security barrier to get his breath… but NCM has no intention of letting him rest. The Insane One hits the ropes and uses his large frame as a missile, throwing himself with reckless abandon through the middle ropes in a terror inducing Suicide Dive that hits hard!

Al Laiman: I honestly don’t know where Mentis is finding the energy! He’s still bleeding hard and he just destroyed Grimm with a Suicide Dive!

The referee begins his count as Non Compos Mentis gets to his feet and takes Grimm by the hair. The fiery haired veteran is reluctant to move but is dragged up from the ground. Before he can put up a guard, NCM slams his head into the security barrier to the dismay of the fans only inches away. He then takes Grimm’s straggling body and pulls it toward the corner of the ring. NCM looks around the arena and, with a twinkle in his eyes, hooks up Grimm and thrusts himself backwards, hitting a Russian Legsweep into the steel steps!

4…
5…
6…

NCM hears the count and rolls into the ring… but instead of staying inside and waiting for a count out, he slides back out. Clearly wanting to inflict more pain on Grimm, NCM sickeningly laughs as the referee leans out and asks NCM to get back in the ring. Mentis merely grabs his opponent and pulls him over to the vicinity of…

Jerry Andrews: Oh god, he’s coming this way…

Al Laiman: Grow some balls, Andrews, we’ll be fi…

The words of the colour commentator are cut off as NCM bounces Grimm’s forehead off the top of the Announce Table. He quickly removes the covering of the table to reveal the myriad computers and monitors below but he leaves them where they are, presumably for a more painful landing platform. Turning his attention back to Grimm, Mentis lifts him up and hauls him onto his shoulders.

Al Laiman: Move it Andrews!

Mentis looks to hit an Oklahoma Slam through the table… but Grimm slides out the back door. Not reacting fast enough to keep control, NCM gets hit with a sudden and desperate Savate Kick to the chin! Non Compos Mentis is rocked and Grimm sees it. He takes a step back to steady himself and rushes forward as if to hit a running version of the Lament Configuration… but this time Mentis reverses and grabs Grimm in a Sidewalk Slam, spinning and lifting him high into the air. The Dum Dum Drop hits and drives Grimm back first through the Announce Table in a horrific impact!

The commentary position is deathly quiet as all their equipment is destroyed by the impact and Steve Shaw begins his count after giving them the benefit of a few extra seconds… or NCM at least.

1… 2… 3…

Non Compos Mentis struggles back to his feet, his face getting redder and redder by the second. He looks back at Grimm who is motionless on the remains of the table and takes in the boos and jeers of the fans as a sick and sadistic, red toothed grin reaches across his mouth. Slowly he slides back into the ring and now lets the referee continue his count.

4… 5…

Resilient as ever, Grimm starts to stir and claw his way back towards the ring. Mentis, watching from the inside of the ring, doesn’t look concerned as Grimm’s fatigued journey continues.

6… 7…

Grimm reaches upward as he moves, trying to grab hold of the apron and finally he touches it. Now Mentis looks worried as a determined but still damaged Grimm drags his body upward and toward the ropes.

8… 9….

With one last herculean effort, Grimm reaches inside the ring and hauls his body forward just enough to constitute being in the ring. The referee signals that Grimm broke the count and the crowd goes wild!

Al Laiman and Jerry Andrews are still trying to get their microphones working as Mentis shows signs of frustration beneath his sick crimson mask. Slowly, very slowly, Grimm struggles back to his feet with help from the ropes and Mentis waits, his energy getting lower as the blood seeps from his veins. Finally Grimm reaches his feet and turns… straight into a hard right hand. Grimm, somehow fighting the fatigue, hits back with one of his own and the two battered fighters begin to trade blows.

Shuddering strikes go back and forth with neither man gaining the advantage. Grimm fires off a right before NCM does the same. NCM hits a backhand chop and Grimm retaliates in kind. Grimm hammers home a headbutt and the ‘Born Psycho’ soaks it up and dishes one right back!

Jerry Andrews: Are we on? We’re on?... And we’re back!

Al Laiman: Smooth, Andrews, smooth.

Jerry Andrews: Whatever… can you believe these two are STILL going at it?! With everything they’ve taken and they’re still fighting!

Grimm somehow manages to string together a few hits, a combo of palm strikes and a vicious European Uppercut to the jaw. Taking it hard, Mentis stumbles backwards but the ropes break his fall and, in fact, propel his back toward Grimm. Improvising, NCM quickly lashes out with a stunning Yakuza Kick to the head again that sends Grimm flying back into the ropes. The Lord of Misrule rebounds and throws all his power into a Lariat… but Mentis ducks!

With Phinehas severely off balance, Mentis’ eyes light up through the blood and he holds out his arm in preparation. Grimm sees the arm but is helpless as NCM spins a full 360 and unloads the full momentum of a Spinning Back Fist straight into the face of… Steve Shaw?!

Grimm ducked at the last moment and the referee took the full brunt of the blow, knocking him out cold on the mat.

Jerry Andrews: The referee is down!

Al Laiman: We’d better get a replacement out here or things will go downhill fast.

Left in shock by hitting the wrong target, NCM remains lifeless as Grimm pulls a huge Enziguri Kick out of nowhere and floors the former Genesis Champion. He is about to get back to his feet when the entire crowd erupts into a simultaneous barrage of jeers that shake the foundation of the PCW Arena.

Out from the back shoot three figure dressed in tattered gear and looking like they would be barred from even the grottiest bar in South Carolina. They are unmistakably members of Non Compos Mentis’ Hobo Horde. The three men bound down the ramp as Grimm gets a shot of adrenaline and jumps back to his feet, ready to fight the illegal threat from outside.

The first jumps onto the apron and is met with a solid right hand from Grimm who holds his own and doesn’t back down one bit. The second follows suit while the third man wheels around the ring as Grimm is distracted. He quickly slides an object across the mat in the ensuing chaos… a steel chair!

Jerry Andrews: Goddamnit, don’t let him get away with this!

Grimm turns his attention to the third man and sends him flying off the apron with a massive clothesline that lands him head first into the security barricade. Then he turns and…. BANG! An unprotected steel chair shot to the skull!

Jerry Andrews: Where was security to take these guys away? Where are security NOW?

The crowd’s booing and hissing hasn’t ceased since the moment the Hobos stepped through the curtain but now it is at even higher levels and Mentis merely smiles his trademark sadistic smile as the blood begins to trickle down Grimm’s forehead on the mat. Both men are now bloodied but Grimm, despite the abuse, begins to move.

Al Laiman: I don’t say it often, but maybe it’s time to stay down, Phinehas. Don’t make it any worse for yourself.

Grimm painfully and extremely slowly sits up, every sense in his head clearly jangling. Mentis can only look down in awe at Grimm as he pulls his destroyed body up from the mat and gets to his feet once more, although the look in his eyes says he could be on the moon rather than in a wrestling ring and not know it. There is no defense when a second chair shot ploughs straight through the face of the Lord of Misrule once again and the chair in Mentis’ hands is stained with the blood of a legend.

Jerry Andrews: Dear god, this has to stop, someone stop it!

Al Laiman: There is nobody! If you were a referee in the back would you want to get in that ring right now?

Steve Shaw is still out cold on the mat and NCM has a glint in his eye that says he isn’t done with Grimm just yet. He is the only man in the ringside area that is standing but he endeavours to change that by dragging Grimm back to his feet, even though the crimson-masked, red-bearded competitors is dead weight. Carefully he places the chair on the mat between his legs and signals for the end.

Jerry Andrews: Fractured Mind? That’ll break his damn neck on the chair!

Mentis places Grimm’s head between his legs and hooks the arms for the Double Underhook Piledriver then goes to lift… but Grimm fights back and lifts NCM overhead, throwing him back down to the mat in a pile! One of the hobos, the only one that has recovered from the initial attack, leaps onto the apron again but a revitalised Grimm swats him off with a huge running elbow before turning.

A dazed and confused Non Compos Mentis gets back to his feet and sees Grimm too late to stop what is coming. He grabs NCM’s head in a vice-like grip and drives him down with a ring-shaking Sleeping Neckbreaker!

Jerry Andrews: Lament Configuration hits! NCM is out and the Hobos are nowhere to be seen!

Feeling the adulation of the crowd behind him again, Grimm doesn’t pin. Instead he turns to the corner and climbs to the middle turnbuckle. There he waits a moment, partially for Mentis to regain his feet in a wavering and unsteady stumble, but also to take in the crowd. He waits, then he jumps… and connects with a chair-shattering Harvest that drives NCM’s cranium through a full inch of steel plate!

Al Laiman: There’s no way he survived that! NCM has to be out cold!

Grimm quickly uses his veteran instincts and grabs the chair, throwing it out of the ring as he sees referee Shaw coming to his senses.

Jerry Andrews: Grimm hooks the leg! One...!

Al Laiman: Two…!

Jerry Andrews: THREE!

Mark Long: The winner by Pinfall…. GRIMMMMM!!!

The crowd goes wild as ‘Winter Shaker’ by Wovenhand hits the PA system and the referee lifts Grimm’s limp arm in victory. The triumphant man can barely move after the exertion of the match but realizes that he is in dire danger if he remains in the ring much longer. Using all the energy he has left, Grimm rolls out of the ring and begins to stumble up the ramp, looking around in thanks to all the fans as they cheer him.

In the middle of the ring Steve Shaw looks down at Mentis and makes sure he is ok, but since when has PCW’s resident nut case been ok? The ‘Born Psycho’ uses his remaining strength to pull his bloody self to the ropes and stare a deathly look right up the ramp to Grimm who is celebrating in victory.

Jerry Andrews: Ladies and Gentlemen, while we sort out our… ummm… technical difficulties here at the commentary station, he’s a look at the next match; the Gabriel Cross vs Whitey Ford with both the North American and International Titles on the line!

As the wreckage of the announce table and the pools of blood around ringside are cleaned up, the cameras switch to a promo video of the upcoming dual-title match up and the rivalry between Cross and Ford.

****

[Murdoc]

MATCH FOUR

Title-for-Title Singles Match

"The Archangel" Gabriel Cross (North American ©) vs. "THE Asshole" Whitey Ford (International ©)

Referee: Manny Cruz

The lights go are back on at medium strength as we come back from the video hyping the next match of the evening. The crowd begins their bottled murmurs, preparing for a rare treat: A Title versus Title match. Mark Long stands alone in the dark ring; a lone spotlight appears on him as he introduces the bout.

Mark Long: Ladies and Gentlemen! The following the contest is scheduled for one fall, with no time limit. The winner of the match will be declared Pure Class Wrestling North American and International Champion. Introducing first...

"Power" by Kanye West incites them to action and they begin to cheer and boo their North American Champion. He arrives on the stage and welcomes it all, flipping back the hood of his black and silver coat, sporting a cool and confident grin. He kneels down, his long coat pooling around him, and raises the North American Title toward the rafters. Standing, he holds the title in front of his waist and signals that soon there will be another one joining it.

Jerry Andrews: Gabriel Cross looks confident tonight, Al.

Mark Long: Hailing from Miami, Florida, he weighs in at two-hundred and thirty-five pounds. He is the Archangel and your North American Champion... Gaaabriellll Crosssssss!!

Al Laiman: Of course he's confident, Jerry. He still holds one PCW Championship. If all goes his way, he'll be holding two in oh, about twenty-five minutes.

He takes his time walking to the ring both to mentally prepare and stroke his ego as thousands of fans scream his name or hurt insults. He takes a moment to appreciate his return to Pay-Per-View before shifting his attention fully toward Whitey Ford, whose music cuts his own as Cross enters the ring. As "Critical Acclaim" begins, Cross removes his coat and transfers his title to Manny Cruz's possession, who raises it officially in the ring as the prize at the end of this rainbow.

Mark Long: And his opponent...

"Critical Acclaim" starts to play, and the lights once again dim down to darkness, except for the stage. The PCWtron plays clips of Whitey Ford from his time in PCW as the International Champion. Backtoss Piledrivers and 540 Splashes invade the screen, followed by Wasted-Lands and Hangovers From Hell.

Mark Long: He hails from Leeds, Maine. Weighing in at two-hundred and twenty pounds, he is your International Champion... Whiiiteeeyyyy Fooooorrdd!


Once the heavy guitars kick in, Whitey walks out onto the stage with his arms held open, soaking in the crowd reaction with an arrogant smile. The International Title hangs down in the air, clenched tight by the strap in one fist. He doesn't waste much time on the stage and continues down the ramp, having a catch with fans and their debris, throwing it back at them violently. Johnny Veigns walks behind, tolerating the antics but prepared to protect his client were things to escalate.

Jerry Andrews: Only Whitey Ford could mess around at a time like this.

Al Laiman: Look closer, Jerry. Whitey seems less drunk than usual. I'm not saying he isn't plastered, but he certainly isn't playing around.

Jerry Andrews: Well, alcohol does work wonders on pain tolerance.

Al Laiman: Did you just make a joke, Jerry? And did you disguise it as a fact? I guess there's a first time for everything. Just like tonight: we ought to see our first official dual Champion. The International Title once merged with the World Title, but that may be as close as we've come.

Whitey's toying with the fans subsides, and he reaches the ring with eyes locked tight on Gabriel Cross. He climbs the steps and enters the ring, leaving Johnny Veigns to patrol the perimeter. He doesn't turn his back on Cross for a moment, fully aware that the North American Champion will take any advantage he's given or capable of creating. Ford knew this because in that regard they were similar creatures. Tonight, however, any similarities would cease and one man would stand victorious as a dual Champion. Whitey hands over his own title, never breaking eye contact with Cross. At this point both men are daring the other to jump the bell, but aren't prepared to leave any openings. Instead Manny Cruz displays the International Title, hands it over at ringside, and calls for the bell.

Al Laiman: And we're off!

With the bell the Faithful take their seats but can't keep silent, cheering on their favorite or trying to start "You Suck!" or "Pee-Cee-Dub!" chants. The two competitors zone out the sounds and circle each other, patient for an opening. Whitey Ford looks to create the first, as he circles to his left to lead Cross around the ring toward a waiting Johnny Veigns. As Cross is crouched in a ready stance with Johnny Veigns directly behind him, Veigns slaps both hands firm on the apron, momentarily drawing The Archangel's attention. As Cross turns slightly to brace for a blindside, Whitey Ford files in and levels him with an axehandle, knocking him to the mat. Manny Cruz immediately jumps between the two men, forcing Whitey Ford to back off. He turns and bravely points square in the face of Johnny Veigns. And Manny Cruz tosses him! Veigns protests but has no choice but to head up the ramp and into the backstage area, leaving Whitey Ford down one expected advantage.

Jerry Andrews: You have to respect Manny Cruz for that decision. He's one official who wants a good, clean contest.

Al Laiman: You may not always get it from these two, but we can hope. Everyone in this building knows they could give us a dynamite wrestling match.

Ford hardly protests; instead he's focused on Cross who returns to his feet, spits off the side of the ring onto the floor, and nods his head as if to say, "Yeah, okay, you got me. But not again." Indeed he wags one finger at the face of Whitey Ford, then beckons for Whitey to bring it on. Without hesitation The Asshole obliges, meeting The Archangel in the center of the ring. With the field levelled, Cross is the first to attack by sticking a kick on Ford's outer thigh. Ford responds with a kick of his own and all four feet start flying.

Cross leads with a two-kick combination to Whitey's legs; Whitey braces to take the blows and then fires back with a spinning back kick to Cross's gut. Cross recoils but reacts by sending a swift lunge-kick to Whitey's ribs. The blow staggers Whitey Ford, which gives Cross time to line up a roundhouse kick at Ford's skull. Whitey ducks on instinct, and Cross whirls around with his own momentum. As he comes full circle Whitey aims a roundhouse of his own, missing the chin of a leaning Cross by inches. Whitey, however, utilizes this momentum. He spins through the kick and rolls, connecting with a wheel kick across the chest of Gabriel Cross. Both men go down and Whitey climbs to his feet. Cross, however, was right behind him. They reach their feet in sync and Cross leaps into the air, connecting with a dropkick to Whitey's chest; both land flat on their back. On contact both men kip to their feet, dukes up, and the crowd goes insane!

Al Laiman: Listen to this crowd, Jerry!

Jerry Andrews: That's one way to set a pace, Al. These two men will hold nothing back tonight.

Where normally two competitors would shake or slap hands after such an exchange, these two men soldier past. Not even Gabriel Cross takes time to showboat for the fans, too enthralled by the challenge at hand. Instead Cross lunges and the two men tie up, jockeying for position and sending testing jabs into the ribs of the other. Cross works his way to an overhand clinch and aims at knee at the gut of Ford. Ford gets his hands down to block and then stomps square on the boot of Gabriel Cross. Immediately Whitey brings his hands up, ties the arms of Gabriel Cross, and forces him back against the ropes. Manny Cruz counts and calls for a rope break.

The moment Ford breaks Cross ropes the dope, lunging out and peppering Ford with a flurry of head-body combinations. Cross works in, cutting Ford's range, looking for another clinch. Ford is backing off, defending, sending shots back where he can. They reach the ropes, Cross at the advantage, and Manny Cruz once again counts and calls for a break.

Before Cross can lunge once more, Whitey Ford changes pace by hitting the ropes to his right. At this point his thoughts are on avoiding a straightforward fight with Gabriel Cross. The speedy Ford hits the ropes and rebounds, but Cross is prepared and leapfrogs over Ford before Whitey can decide what to do on the initial pass. Ford bounces off the ropes opposite, and Cross drops to prone as Whitey Ford runs over top. Cross springs up, loads, and launches a dropkick. He connects with thin air.

Whitey Ford had hooked his arms in the ropes, stopping himself up. As Cross misses by a mile, rolling in the air and landing on all fours, Whitey dashes forward with a sadistic grin. Like fourth and forty Whitey Ford's boot collides with the side of Cross's face in a full-force punt. Cross drops in a heap and Whitey covers him up.

1...

Al Laiman: Too bad for Cross he wasn't wearing parachute pants.

Cross kicks out just before two.

Jerry Andrews: What?

Whitey Ford lifts Gabriel Cross to his feet, sending him into the ropes with an irish whip.

Al Laiman: Parachute pants would slow down the acceleration. Ya know... less force...

Less force seems an impossibility inside the ring as Gabriel Cross slings off the ropes. Whitey lines up a springboard on the ropes opposite, leaping up and turning mid-air for a cross-body block. Ford connects but Cross somehow catches him around the neck and inner thigh, continues forward a step, and drops Whitey Ford down with a fallaway slam which sucks his wind. Cross covers.

1...

Jerry Andrews: An impressive show of strength by this young man.

Whitey kicks out just before two, but Cross grabs hold of the momentum. He drags Ford to his feet, slapping him on the back of the head a bit for good measure, before delivering two hard knees to the gut. He hooks Whitey for a suplex and lifts him fully vertical. Cross holds... holds... Whitey struggles... and Cross drops backward with a vertical suplex! He floats over and makes another pinfall attempt.

1...

2...

Whitey Ford kicks out just past two and Cross wastes little time. He slaps on a side headlock on the downed Whitey Ford, cutting his opponent's air and catching his own breath. Ford endures the hold for all of five seconds before he starts fighting back. First he works his fingers into any free space he can find in Cross's grip, hoping to relieve some pressure. As Cross attempts to modify his hold, Ford manages to make it to one knee, and then two, and then he's powering upward. Whitey Ford reaches his feet and forces Cross to break with a few well-placed elbows. Ford fires a few measured punches before digging down and staggering Cross with a rising European uppercut. He transitions by hooking the neck, rolling Cross through with a snapmare, and then delivering a brutal kick to the back of Gabriel's head. Cross eats mat as he's forced face down. Whitey Ford flips him over. Lateral press.

1..

Al Laiman: Those kicks from Whitey are especially beefy tonight, Jerry.

2..

Jerry Andrews: He knows what's at stake. And so does Cross. If he gets an opening, he'll return those kicks.

Al Laiman: Like milk caps at the recycling center!

At two, Gabriel Cross kicks out. Whitey Ford is not discouraged, however. Instead he continues his work, stomping down on Gabriel Cross with reckless boots and his planning his next attack. He lifts the slightly stunned Cross to his feet, maneuvering him toward the center of the ropes. Without warning Whitey hops over the top rope, springboards, and connects with a high angle dropkick!

Al Laiman: He must have been eight feet in the air!

After a quick second of recovery Ford slides over to pin the downed Gabriel Cross.

1...

...

2...

... And Cross kicks out! Thinking fast and refusing to slow his pace, Whitey Ford scales the turnbuckles until he's perched, waiting, at the top. Luckily for Whitey Cross rises with his back to the man ready and waiting to fly. Cross turns as Whitey leaps, legs extended and spread. A top rope hurricanarana!

No!

Cross catches Ford and redirects the momentum into a powerbomb! He holds position, pinning Whitey's shoulders beneath him.

1...

...

2...

...

...

Whitey Ford kicks outs!! Cross climbs to his feet, frustrated, and finally notices the screaming fans. For a second their sound overwhelms him. He is tired, his head is pounding. He notices Whitey Ford starting to crawl on the mat, looking to stand and moving toward him. He looks back at the mass of Faithful, and grins. Faces Whitey Ford head on. Charges.

PUNT KICK!

Al Laiman: Return to Sender!!!

Jerry Andrews: Cross covers!

1...

...

2...

...

...

Al Laiman: Whitey Ford gets the shoulder up!

And just barely, too. Manny Cruz's hand stops only inches from the mat, leaving Cross gaping in disbelief. He starts to argue the call.

Al Laiman: Don't stop now, Gabriel. Try and try again.

As though Cross hears the advice he ceases his pleading, and instead focuses on how to keep Whitey Ford down for the count. With Whitey Ford stirring and Cross once again aware of the crowd, The Archangel climbs through the ropes. He stands on the apron, waiting for Whitey Ford to turn and face him. As Whitey stands and begins to turn, Cross hops to the top rope, springboarding and aiming a forearm smash at the face of Whitey Ford. Whitey catches him in the corner of his eye and...

He disrupts Cross's attack with a high kick! Cross is knocked from mid-air, hitting the mat hard. He barely stirs. Whitey drops to the mat himself. Whitey, still dazed, had reacted on instinct, although he could hardly form a complete or complex thought. He was winded, and sore, but he would fight until the end. Finally locating Gabriel Cross on the mat that now seemed to stretch for miles, Whitey hooks the leg for the count.

1...

...

2...

...

...

And Gabriel Cross kicks out! Whitey sits up straight, looking from Gabriel Cross, to Manny Cruz, to the Faithful now cheering for the match and, also, probably because Whitey hadn't won it. A brief 'Fuck Them' crossed his mind, followed by a 'Fuck This'. He looks to Gabriel Cross, hardly moving, and gets an idea. With renewed purpose Whitey wills himself to his feet, finding a sense of balance and a surge of adrenaline. He rolls Gabriel Cross toward the ropes before crawling through himself, landing on the floor. Manny Cruz begins to count him as Whitey hauls Cross toward the outside, positioning him halfway in the ring and halfway off the apron. He shoots Cruz a look of disdain and slides back into the ring, breaking the count. Cross still not stirring, Ford once again climbs to the top turnbuckle. He aims himself, and leaps, and lands...

Al Laiman: A top-rope legdrop on the apron! Whitey Ford must be insane!

The recoil is serious. Ford connects and flops down, landing in a heap on the floor. Cross takes the blow and convulses, writhing off the apron and onto the floor himself. With both men down and out of the ring, Cruz begins his count.

1..

2..

Jerry Andrews: Whitey Ford should be the first to stand.

Al Laiman: If either man gets counted out, we won't see a title change hands tonight.

Jerry Andrews: I can't see either of them allowing that, Al. Not if they can help it.

3..

4..

Finally Whitey Ford begins to stir. He quickly becomes aware of the counting; using the apron to pull himself up he slides into the ring, and then back out, breaking the count. On the outside he begins lifting up the mats at ringside, exposing the concrete floor beneath. Whitey lifts Cross to his feet and sets him up, draped across Whitey's back in a crucifix position.

Al Laiman: He doesn't mean to...

Backtoss Piledriver!

No!

Cross reverses! As Whitey throws Cross over his shoulders, Cross manages to hook an arm around Whitey's neck. Using the momentum and gravity, he manages to drive Whitey Ford's head downward...

Al Laiman: DDT on the concrete!!

Knowing he has to get Ford back into the ring, or at least break the count, Cross chooses to do the latter. He rolls in the ring and then back out, resuming his attack on Ford. Cross irish-whips him at the barricade. Whitey Ford finds himself running headlong, with no choice but to turn and absorb the impact. As his back collides with the lightly padded wall he sees Gabriel Cross running full-on. Before Whitey can get out of the way Cross steps up on the barricade... high knee strike! Whitey stumbles away, dropping to one knee, fighting to keep his wits about him, finding it particularly hard after that DDT. On the follow-through of the knee strike Cross had travelled to the other side of the barricade. He now waits, poised among the Faithful, as Whitey searches for him. Ford stands, dazed, and turns; Springboard Forearm from Cross! Whitey Ford is levelled by the maneuver as Cross flies by and rolls through, popping to his feet and screaming at the fans. Immediately he seizes Whitey Ford and rolls him into the ring. Lateral press from Cross.

1...

...

2..

...

...

...

Whitey Ford gets his shoulder up!

Al Laiman: At the last second, Jerry!

Jerry Andrews: We are officially witnessing an historic match in Pure Class History.

Cross, once again in disbelief, looks for a way to finish Whitey Ford. He lifts a battered but still beating Whitey Ford to his feet. Whitey battles back with shots to Cross's body. Cross stops him up with a stiff left to the jaw, and then slaps a blatant one-handed choke on Whitey Ford! He hooks the arm, lifts Whitey into the air, and chokeslams him across one knee! Lateral press!

1...

...

Al Laiman: Holy ow-cow!


2...

...

...

Jerry Andrews: He calls that one the 'Straight to Hell.'

...

...

Again Whitey gets the shoulder up! Having had enough, Cross gets to his feet. He's moving considerably slower now, his tank in the red. Ford is faring no better, as Cross lifts him with nearly no resistance. Cross looks out to the crowd, calling for the Crossfire. He sets Whitey up in a pumphandle, hoisting him onto his shoulder. Float-over...

No!

Ford wrests himself free, sliding down Cross's back! Cross wheels and Ford catches him off-guard with a gut kick. Cross bends at the waist... downward enziguri! Out of thin air Whitey Ford hits the Hangover From Hell! Both men are sprawled on the mat, exhausted. Both heads pounding, Whitey Ford is the first to stir. He somehow stands, and still Cross lies, lifeless. He looks to the top rope. He begins to scale. Slowly, one foot at a time, he reaches the top turnbuckle. He turns, nearly falling, to face his downed opponent.

Al Laiman: He couldn't possibly... 540 Splash!! Whitey Ford connects with a 540 Splash!!

Leaping off the turnbuckle, Ford tumbles once through the air, then another three-quarter turn as he nails Cross dead-on. He bounces on impact, momentarily unmoving on the mat. Somehow he drags himself toward The Archangel, draping himself across.

1...

...

2...

...

Jerry Andrews: This could be...

...

...

Al Laiman: Shoulder up!

The crowd erupts as Cross just manages to get his shoulder up. The boos have ceased; reputations aside, this is a match they could only see at a Pure Class Pay Per View. Instead manic cheering, hooting, and hollering fills the arena, as every person in attendance is fully enrapt. Neither man is moving in the ring now, and the Faithful begin to cheer them on. The fans themselves compete as they await the outcome:

"LET'S GO CROSS!"

"WHITEY FORD!"

"LET'S GO CROSS!"

"WHITEY FORD!"

These chants are heard from all corners of the arena, yet neither is louder than: "PEE-CEE-DUB!" or "HOLY SHIT!"

With both men not moving, Manny Cruz has no choice but to begin a count.

1...

2...

3...

Jerry Andrews: The damage they've taken in this match is astronomical.

Al Laiman: I don't know how much more they can take.

4...

5...

Whitey begins to stir.

6...

Cross as well.

7...

Both men are standing.

8...

And both men are up! Once again the crowd pops, louder than ever, as the two men find themselves face to face in the ring once more. Cross's lip is busted. Whitey's ribs are bruised. Cross's, too. There's a lump forming on Whitey's head, invisible beneath his hair.

Kick to the body from Whitey!

Thrust kick from Cross!

Whitey throws a combination; Cross gets up a leg, blocking one, but takes the second shot to his kidney.

Cross returns with a savate, narrowly missing.

They close distance.

Cross throws a knee, but Whitey blocks. A european uppercut from Whitey creates some space between them.

Al Laiman: This match has come full circle!

Both men exhausted, sizing up the other. Off his left leg, Whitey attempts a high roundhouse.

Cross attempts a high roundhouse off his right.

CRACK!

Jerry Andrews: Wait, what?!

Al Laiman: Both men are down! They just kicked each other in the face!

Only a second after Whitey's kick collided, Cross's kick (already at full force) found flesh. Boots met chins and both men fell to the mat, neither moving an inch. Manny Cruz drops to the mat, checking on Whitey, and then on Cross. Then on Whitey. And then on Cross. They are close together, close enough that he can raise one arm of each man at the same time.

Jerry Andrews: Who will make it through that?

He drops both arms, which fall limp to the mat. One...

Al Laiman: And how, Jerry? And how...

He raises their arms again.

Again they drop to the mat.

Two...

Everyone in the crowd seems to hold their breath as he raises their arms for the third, and final, time. Every member of the Faithful is hoping for either one arm or the other to stop in mid-air.

...

...

Manny Cruz releases.

Gabriel Cross's arm hits the mat.

At the same moment...

Whitey Ford ...

... manages to keep his arm in the air!

That’s it! Gabriel Cross was unable to answer the three count!

DING DING DING!

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner via KnockOut .... WHITEYYYYYYY FORRRRRRRRD!

Winner: Whitey Ford via knock-out

Manny Cruz retrieves both belts from ringside. At roughly the same moment, both men begin to stir and stare, confused. Manny Cruz approaches, handing the North American Title AND the International Title to Whitey Ford. The two competitors can only look at the titles now in Whitey Ford’s possession, then back to each other ... fervently trying to comprehend what just transpired as we head to the backstage area.

****

[Murdoc]

****

We are treated to Kassandra Black, standing by with the SECOND of our Icemann Invititational Finalists .... Ace Anderson. Let’s get a quick word, shall we?

Kassandra Black: Thanks Jerry. I’m standing here with Ace Anderson, on the cusp of what could be considered a veritable jewel in the crown of Ace Anderson’s history. Ace, tell me ... how does it feel to here tonight and one step away from becoming the FIRST EVER two-time Icemann Invitational winner?

Ace Anderson: It's surreal, Kassandra. My last Icemann Invitational was a disappointment. I didn't think I'd get another chance. But here I am. If I could actually win it? It would be an honor, Kassandra. And if I'm lucky, it will start a new chapter in my career. The last time I made it to the end, it began the height of my career. That's almost ancient history now, which is why this means so much. Some say I'm irrelevant, or that I'm past my prime. I'm not sure what that says about the rest of them, as I've traveled my hardest road yet to get here. Against men who wanted it just as bad. And still, there's one more roadblock.

Kassandra Black: And by roadblock, you’re of course referring to ‘Dollface’ Kelli Starr. Ace, you have to admit ... she’s gone through some incredibly tough opponents to get to where she is tonight. What are YOUR thoughts on her?

Ace Anderson: Kelli's a fighter, that much I've seen. And soon, I'll feel it in every strike. I'm sure she hits harder than her violent wardrobe, which actually says a lot. At this point in the tournament, Kelli knows what I know. She's come through her side facing mounted odds, also including former Champions in the sport. Kelli, take it from me: they can talk their talk, but we're the ones still standing. One of us will be a Champion at the end of the night. One of us will realize a dream.

Kassandra Black: Ace, what’s next for you?

Ace Anderson: Next? Dollface, stupid. I'd be a fool to look further. Ask me when the match is over, and maybe you'll get a different answer.

Kassandra is obviously rattled by the sharp and abrupt retort to her question.

Kassandra Black: Any last words, Ace?

Ace ponders for a few moments, then breaks out in a biiiiiiiiiiiiiig grin.

Ace Anderson: THOSE ARE THE WORDS OF GREAT... just kidding. Kelli, let's bring the house down.

Kassandra Black: Back to you guys!

****

[Murdoc]

MATCH FIVE

Tag Team Match

"The British Lion" Tyler Scott & "The Legacy" Dillon Durst vs. Andy D & Rick Majors

Referee: Roberto Garcia

The British Lion and “The Legacy” Dillon Durst are already at ringside, with Durst opting to be the first in the ring. “Are You Not Entertained” hits and scream the fans do as Andy D makes his way to the ring. He gets to his corner, and looks as if he is considering stepping into the ring, but smiles and instead chooses to stay in his corner. No sooner does “Demons” hit, and Rick Majors speeds out to the ring. He slides right under the bottom rope and Durst is there to meet him, clotheslining Majors down to the mat. Roberto Garcia motions for the bell to ring, and the match is officially on!

Majors is back to his feet quickly, using the momentum to plant an elbow smash on Durst, sending him stumbling backwards. Majors goes for a running clothesline of his own but Durst manages to duck underneath it. He slips behind Majors, locking his arms around his waist before sending both men to the mat with a german suplex. Durst drags Majors over to his corner where he tags in Tyler Scott. Both men lift Majors up with the referee warning them before they deliver a devastating backdrop.

Jerry Andrews: And we start this one off with a bang, Al! Some nice back and forth action in the opening minutes.

Al Laiman: Nice teamwork from Scott and Durst. There’s definitely some history between all FOUR of these men and I have a feeling it’s going to erupt like a powder keg before all is said and done.

The British Lion is on the attack quickly, bulldogging the slowly rising Majors face first into the mat. He hooks a leg but it is only a 2 count before Majors manages to get a shoulder up off the mat. Scott pulls Majors up off the ground, ready to strike again but this time it’s Majors who acts first, throwing his knee up, connecting with the stomach of the British Lion. He then hooks his arm around Scott’s head and lifts him vertically, and proceeds to drop him on his head with a brainbuster!

Majors takes the opportunity to make a much needed tag, and the fans cheer as Andy D bursts on to the scene. The British Lion is up but he knocked down again with a dropkick. Andy D is on fire as he pulls the bigger man to his feet, delivering a knee to the gut. He goes over Scott, who tries to grabs his legs. This is clearly exactly what Andy D wants as he counters with a sunset flip pin! Roberto Garcia goes down to make the count but it’s only two and a half, as Durst enters the ring illegally and kicks Andy D right in the face.

Al Laiman: Durst saves the match for his team. Andy D and Majors showing why they aren’t ones to be trifled with!

Jerry Andrews: Either of these teams could come away with a win here tonight, Al. It all boils down to timing and execution.

Rick Majors takes exception to this, and having had some time to recover, he too enters the ring illegally to even up the odds. Durst doesn’t see him coming until Majors has tackled him into the corner. He then begins a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks that has the once standing Durst, slumped in the corner. Roberto Garcia takes the opportunity to restore order and forcibly shepherds Majors back towards his corner.

Meanwhile, Tyler Scott has recovered quicker than his opponent and has Andy D backed into a corner of his own. He attempts to block a series of vicious strikes, biding his time. When Scott pulls his head back for a headbutt, Andy D sees his opportunity and with great speed jumps up to the middle rope. He barely avoids a low blow, but Scott receives a faceful of turnbuckle in the process. Clutching his head Andy D is on the turnbuckle and then in the air, but jumps over his opponent intentionally. He forces the dazed Scott backwards into the turnbuckle and Scott begins to climb it, thinking to get the high ground advantage. This is exactly what Andy D wants as he also gets to the top rope and without warning jumps, his feet catching Scott’s head sending him hurtling to the mat below with a standing top rope hurricanrana! The fans are on their feet at the show of athleticism from Andy.

Jerry Andrews: Andy D, always one to give the fans a show Al.

Al Laiman: If he’s not careful, his antics could backfire on him ... and that would be JUST the opening that Tyler Scott and DIllon Durst are looking for!

Andy D springs over to make the cover. 1...2…3 NO! Somehow Scott manages to get a shoulder up off the mat before three. Andy D knows better than to argue and instead decides to promptly tag in his partner, Rick Majors. Majors is well rested and begins to systematically bash Scott with a fury of elbows but isn’t quite aware of the space as the dazed British Lion manages to reach out blindly behind him and tag in The Legacy.

Not seeing the tag, Majors is still focused on Scott, and slips around behind him. He locks his arms around Scott’s waist but as he does, a pair of arms belonging to Durst are around his own waist! As Majors follows through on his german suplex the strength of Durst is really showcased as he manages to suplex not just the weight of Majors, but the weight of Majors and Scott. Tyler Scott gets the worst of it, going right over the top rope and falling to the floor below. Majors is slightly more lucky, the ropes breaking his fall as he is left half hanging awkwardly over the ropes.

Durst takes advantage, pulling Majors out from the ropes and spinning him around. He hoists him up into the air and slams him to the mat hard with a sit down powerbomb. Durst follows up with an immediate cover. 1...2…3! Durst gets up raising his arms in the air but the referee’s sight is not on him, but Rick Majors, whose outstretched arm is grasping the bottom rope. Durst turns to have his hand raised only to see Roberto Garcia shaking his head. He explains to Durst that Majors had gotten to the ropes but Durst doesn’t want to hear it. He screams at the referee but Garcia doesn’t back down shaking his head profusely.

Al Laiman: Oh come ON! When has arguing with the referee EVER worked? The ref saw what he saw, Durst is wasting valuable time!

Jerry Andrews: You may be right about that, Al. This is NOT helping Durst get any farther ahead in the match. It’s giving Rick Majors the chance to catch a much needed breather.

When Durst finally focuses his attention back on Majors, he walks right into a vicious roundhouse kick to the face. Durst manages to keep his legs, but his balance is thrown out of whack as he stumbles backwards. He keeps back-pedaling as Majors surges forwards. Tyler Scott is back in his corner after having taken some time to recover on the outside. He stretches as far as he can and when Durst comes close enough, he slaps him on the back making the tag. Majors doesn’t get fooled twice though and when the British Lion enters the ring he’s met by a clothesline! Scott gets up quickly and Majors goes for another, but Scott ducks under it.

Jerry Andrews: Exactly what I meant, Al. Majors was able to gather his composure and was ready for the blind tag to Tyler Scott.

Al Laiman: The pace is quickening, Andrews. When that happens, mistakes are easier to make .... but who’s going to bite the bullet?!

Both men turn quickly but it’s Scott who upends Majors and begins to apply a sharpshooter! He manages to almost lock it in before one of Major’s legs is freed through furious kicking motions. That foot hits Scott square in the face and he is dazed for a moment. A moment is all Rick Majors needs to get to his feet and he locks his arms underneath Scotts’. Jerking his opponent’s body upwards he then proceeds to drop Scott to the mat with The Major Impact! Majors throws an arm over Scott and the referee begins to count.

Durst is in the ring in a hurry, but this time Andy D decides he will not just be a bystander and so it is Dillon Durst who is on the receiving end of a massive Dragon’s Bite! Referee Roberto Garcia makes a three count and this time there is no one to break it up and no rope to prolong the end of the match.

DING DING DING DING

Mark Long: Your winners .... Rick Majors and Andyyyyyyy D!!!

Winner(s): Rick Majors and Andy D via pinfall

Majors rises from the mat and Tyler Scott is still laying on the ground holding his head. Andy D slips out of the ring after their arms are raised and heads for the back. Tyler Scott is the next to do so and then it is just two men in the ring, Rick Majors and the rising Dillon Durst. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as the two men close the distance between them so much so that they are literally nose to nose. The crowd cheers wildly, sensing a brawl coming on but their hopes are stopped short as the PCW Security with Double D in the lead come from backstage and are quickly in the ring, separating the two men and cutting to ...

[Murdoc]

PCW THE MUSIIIIIC!

VOLUME ONE!!

CAPSLOCK!

THEME SONGS ARE ON HEEEEEERE!

$19.99!!!

BUY 2 FOR THE PRICE OF ...

2!!!!

ORDER TODAY!!!

Not available outside of the U.S.; Shipping and Handling Apply. All Sales Final.

[Murdoc]

MATCH SIX

Grudge Match*

Justin "Stormm" Michaels vs. Skylar Marshall

Referee: Eddie Lane

Mark Long: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

The arena lights dim down and the slowly begins to rise to their feet. Pouring rain is heard but not a soul in the area has felt a drop of water as orange fog begins to crawl up the entrance way. Orange spotlights race around those in attendance tonight and are all a bit spooked with the deafening crash of thunder. The pre-chorus rift to ‘Crash" by Decyfer Down rises up over the sounds of nature’s wrath as two bolts of lightning strike the entrance way. Through the mix of orange and white smoke steps Justin Michaels through the curtain. He is closely followed by the lovely Lindsey Michaels.

"CRASH! YOU'RE GOING DOWN! WITHOUT A SOUND!"

Mark Long: Introducing first...

Justin extends his arms taking in the cheers coming from the Pure Class Wrestling faithful. He starts his way down, giving out high fives to those lining his way. You can see a certain type of determination in his step and he moves quickly towards the ring.

"THEN I'LL PASS YOU UP, BEFORE I EXPLODE! BREAKING IN TWO! I'LL SEE IT THROUGH!"

Mark Long: From Kansas City, Kansas; weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds...

With Lindsey in tow Michaels makes a circle around the ring, making sure to take a stop and give a mocking salute to Al Laiman. Justin hops up upon the ring apron and assists Lindsay up the stairs. He holds the ropes for her, before ducking in himself and moving to each corner to greet the fans. Each corner of the arena responds back with cheers, hoping that he will give Marshall the beating that some think he deserves.

"YOU WON'T KEEP ME DOWN WHEN I CRASH THROUGH YOU!"

Mark Long: Accompanied by Lindsay Michaels, he is professional wrestling's Force of Nature... JUSTIN "STORMM" MICHAELS!

Al Laiman: Well this will definitely be an interesting match.

Jerry Andrews: Not many of us saw this match up coming. I for one would have expected Mr. Marshall to allow other members of Marshall’s Law to face off against Stormm.

Al Laiman: Well it looks like the boss isn’t afraid of all of those ‘M’s either.

Jerry Andrews: We have received word that Mr. Marshall will not enter ring side until Justin Michael’s arm is secured.

"Double D" Domino D'Angelo has the honor to binding Stormm’s arm behind his back. Everyone can see that fire set in as Justin argues about which arm should be secured, but Double D insists it to be the right arm. Domino tests the bond with a strong jerk and the wince that comes across Justin’s face is enough of a sign for “Back in Black” by AC/DC begins to blare over the P.A. System. Green and white lasers begin to strike through the arena and a floating cubes switching between each color hover over the ring. Green and white smoke fills the ramp way as a shadow can been seen being engulfed.

Mark Long: Introducing next is the President of Pure Class Wrestling…

Through the smoke steps Skylar Marshall dawned in a fully black track suit. He zips up the jack over his black t-shirt and is greeted with an onslaught of the crowd’s jeers. The PCW President doesn’t seem to give them much mind as he stares down his opponent. From the ring Stormm is beginning to yell towards his boss mutely asking where his body guards. Marshall’s only response with a cold hard stare while pointing to Stormm than himself, indicating that this is just between the two of them.

Mark Long: He stands at 6’6” and two-hundred and ninety pounds and is currently the minority shareholder of PCW. He is SKYLAR MARSHALL!

As Marshall gets to the ring steps he insists that Eddie Lane keep Michaels from the ropes and gives adequate space for him to enter. Stormm only smiles at this and raises his arms as he back to the opposite corner. Marshall climbs the stairs and checks on Stormm once more cautiously before entering the ring through the top and center ropes. The fans have begun a Stormm chant that echoes through the rafters causing Marshall to glare around at them only exacerbating the situation.

The bell sounds and the two men begin to circle to their right. Justin’s left arm is up in a guard position while Marshall circles with both hands up, but at a distance. Justin goes in for a one armed tie up, but Marshall isn’t quite ready so he takes a step back. Still circling Justin goes in for a second try, but with the same results. This causes Michaels to stop in his tracks and demand that Marshall meet him in the middle of the ring. In return, Skylar makes some underhanded comment and points to his feet. Whatever he said causes Michael to spring to action, but Skylar is quick to scurry around his opponents and powders out of the ring.

Michaels isn’t so quick to follow but instead begins to lean over the top rope and insists that Skylar get back in the ring. Marshall cups his ear and insists that he cannot make out what Stormm wants, then locks eyes with Lindsay Michaels. As Stormm watches from the ring, Skylar begins to stalk Mrs. Michaels while she backpedals away from him. There is only so much Stormm can take before he rolls under the bottom rope breaking Eddie Lane’s ten count.

Before Skylar can get to the woman he sees his opponent and the chase is on. Skylar makes almost a full loop around the ring with Michaels hot on his heels before rolling back into the ring. As planned Michaels follows and is met with Skylar’s enormous feet. Holding onto the top rope Skylar stomps away at the younger man trying to get in as much as he can. He takes a few steps back and runs up with a lifting kick to Stormm’s ribs.

Jerry Andrews: If Michaels isn’t careful he will walk into every trap that the PCW President has ready for him.

Al Laiman: Stormm is full of emotion over the past few weeks and is dying to get his hands on his former employee and current boss.

Through the boots Michaels is slow to his feet, leaning heavily on his left arm. Skylar tries to keep him down but it isn’t long before Stormm is back to his feet. Marshall looks around and begins to back up, only to be caught by Justin’s left shoulder and drove into the corner. There the barrage of left hands begins. He switches from the over hand punches to driving his shoulder into the gut of the taller and older man.

Al Laiman: It was only time before Stormm took the upper hand; Skylar is spotting him over twenty years.

Stormm mounts the turnbuckle and raises his left hand to the crowd’s amusement. Justin begins to lay left fists into the forehead of Marshal as the crowd counts along with the referee,

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

7…

8…

9…

For the last one Stormm winds up and actually jumps a bit before the deafening

10!!!

Marshall stumbles out of the corner and flops on the ground. With still some wit about him Skylar rolls out of the ring and asking anyone who will listen for a timeout. His torso is arched as one hand is on his lower back while the other is pressed firmly against his forehead; only to be removed to continuously forming a ‘T’ shape for the timeout.

Stormm isn’t interested in giving his boss more time to recuperate than is necessary, but the echoing boos of the crowd inform him that something isn’t quite right. His attention is draw to the ramp way where we find non-other than “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. He isn’t in ring gear but also isn’t completely suited up either. He has his designer dress shirt still tucked in, but the sleeves are rolled up and the World Title rests firmly on his shoulder.

Stormm is not happy about the interruption. He is found squawking at the current World Champion as Showtime slowly makes his way ringside. What Stormm isn’t watching is that Marshall has returned to the ring and is slowly unzipping his track jacket. He over exaggerates an overhand grab into what must be an inside breast pocket and retrieves a pair of silver handcuffs. The fans react again, but Stormm is fully engaged at yelling at Wryght, who only smiles back.

With a quick snap Marshall has secured the cuffs to both the top rope and the left wrist of Justin Michaels. Michaels looks down and can’t believe his eyes while Eddie Lane is quick to interfere trying to remove the handcuffs. He tugs and tugs, but it is Marshall that pulls Lane out of the way and insists that he leaves the ring. Stormm is livid as he runs up and down the rope, he looks back a split second before seeing Showtime charging and the gold of the World Title strikes him in the face.

Eddie Lane is now on the outside of the ring talking to the timekeeper who is now furiously ringing the bell. Marshall tells him to knock off the racket, but that order is one that is blatantly ignored. It’s Marshall that starts trying to stomp the mud hole into the side of Stormm as Showtime stands back and smiles. There isn’t anyone around to stop Marshall from laying into the man that he truly hates.

Stormm is able to get back to his feet but trapped to the top rope he is only prey for the bigger Marshall to toy with. With blood running down his lip he begins to yell at his two enemies, but both seem to find his attempt humorous. It isn’t before long that Showtime joins in on the attack and finishes Stormm off with a second title shot across the face.

Al Laiman: Stormm has taken this beating as wewll as any man would, but there is only so much punishment a man can take.

Jerry Andrews: We are assuming that this match has been awarded to Michaels, but I definitely can’t say that he is a winner here tonight.

Showtime is now leaning over the top rope demanding that someone give him a microphone. It is Mark Long that finally relinquishes his and the World Champion stanches it from his hand. He gets right in the face of the downed Stormm and playfully starts to smack him. He doesn’t forget to look over at Lindsay Michaels and insists that she stays out of the way. You can see her shout some choice words, but knows that she’d only do more harm than help if she interfered.

Michael Wryght: So Justin, is this how you saw you night going? It’s just another night of being out smarted with not a soul in sight to come to your aid. No one ever comes to help you, because no one really wants you here. Now you’re night won’t be all bad because I have a proposition for you.

The crowd is livid and is showing it as they rain down boos over the ring. Showtime looks up and gives them all that patented half smile of his, showing that he adores the hate.

Michael Wryght: You’ve wanted a piece of me ever since you came back to Pure Class Wrestling and after this I think that you might deserve it. After I take care of business here later tonight with Kaard I’m giving you your shot. Next Trauma it will be truly you versus me one on one.

Regardless of how much the fans may hate Mr. Showtime they erupt in cheers at the potential of finally seeing these two square off. Showtime sees that he has pleased the crowd and that smile returns, but the moment that they notice the jeers begin again. Showtime mushes Stormm’s face and leaves the dazed man behind on the mat. Showtime directs his attention to “Double D” Domino D'Angelo and begins to speak again.

Michael Wryght: Mr. D., if you would be so kind to make sure that Justin here is attended to and is in no way able to interfere with tonight’s main event? It would be a shame for anyone else’s night was ruined because of Stormm.

Domino just nods to Showtime and Marshall.

Michael Wryght: I hope that the rest of the locker room has enough respect for the World Title to make sure they don’t get any crazy ideas either. Justin, you may really want to consider swallowing a key for those or something; that’s twice now.

Both Showtime and Marshall exit the ring laughing at the misfortunes of Justin Michaels as the feed switches to ...

[Murdoc]

****

... a hype video for the finals of The Icemann Invitational Tournament.

The video showcases some of the great matches that have been on display this year. Grimm vs. Kelli Starr with Kelli refusing to submit ... Andy D getting the pin over the eccentric Q.

Many have fallen.

High Tide being NAILED by a huge Areas moonsault.

Many have given their ALL.

NCM and Ace going to the very limits to stay alive in the tournament. This all set to the sounds of of ‘Hero’ by Skillet.

Only TWO remain ...

The crowd roars their approval as the video ends with the juxtaposition of Kelli Starr super-imposed over the hulking frame of Ace Anderson as the camera returns from the video package to show the crowd on their feet for the next match ...

MATCH SEVEN

The Icemann Invitational Tournament Finals

Genesis Championship Match

Genesis Rules

Ace Anderson (Genesis ©) vs. "Dollface" Kelli Starr

Referee: Eric Russo

As the rapid harpsichord sounds of Emilie Autumn’s ‘Syringe’ sounds over the PCW loudspeakers, all the arena lights go out save for delicately strobing green lights at the stage area. Increasing in tempo with the music, they light up a single female figure standing at the top of the ramp. With the heavy pulse of the bass kicking in, multicolored lights begin to flicker and strobe in a rainbow of chaos as Dollface makes her energetic way to the ring.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, making her way to the ring tonight at 180 pounds ... she is the UNDEFEATED finalist in the Icemann Invitational Tournament .... ‘DOLLFACE’ KELLIIIIIIIII STARRRRRRR!

She slips under the bottom rope into the ring as the frenetic rave-like lighting continues, dancing in the ring ... circling like a candy-coated twister of epic proportions. The entire ring is her playground and she makes it known that she is as comfortable within its’ confines as she can be as she awaits her opponent. She doesn’t have to wait TOO long as ...

"Pain Redefined" plays, sounding out and competing with the crowd as stage lights flicker with the first echoing notes. The light drumline begins, and the lights pick up speed. With each exclamation by the vocalist three short bursts of red and blue fireworks rocket toward the ceiling. On cue with the lyrics, Ace Anderson erupts from behind the curtain, arms raised. He takes a few seconds to survey the sound and the scene, staring at Kelli Starr already in the ring

Mark Long: Introducing next, weighing in tonight at 290 pounds ... adding to a laundry list of PCW accomplishments, he is the CURRENT Genesis champion and the second finalist of the Icemann Invitational Tournament ... ladies and gentlemen ... ACE ANDERSONNNNNNN!

He walks to the ring with his long strides, looking determined and mentally preparing himself. He reaches the ring, stops, looks left and then right at the crowd as if he makes to jump up to the apron as he always had in the past. A momentary pause and he leaps, landing on the outside of the ring. Pyrotechnics blast from the ringposts as his feet hit the apron, him shaking the top rope while the fireworks die out. He climbs through the second rope and raises his fists, gauging the ovation of PCW's Faithful before stretching in his corner ... never taking his eyes off of Starr.

Jerry Andrews: This is it, ladies and gentlemen! The finals of the Icemann Invitational and is for the Genesis Championship!

Al Laiman: We’re going to see some SERIOUS action in this match. We’ve already had a HELL of a night so far, and these two are going to pour gasoline on the fire! They’re going to pull out ALL the stops.

Jerry Andrews: You’re right about that one, and I for one am ready to get this match underway. It looks as though the referee has finished giving the combatants their instructions. Let’s head down to the ring!

The competitors backing away to their own corners ...

DING DING DING!

The bell sounds and here we go!

The two competitors circle the ring, the crowd at a fever pitch for this ... the FINALS of the Icemann Invitational Tournament .... and they’re not shy in showing their appreciation for these two talented combatants. It’s all or nothing and no one knows that better than these two. Kelli hesitant to lock up with the much larger Ace Anderson, she is content to move very nimbly around the outside of the canvas. Ace has taken up residence in the center of the ring and is inching closer to Starr. Once she’s within arms’ reach ... he goes for a grab!

Kelli gingerly avoiding the tie-up, she responds with several stiff chops and kick to the comparatively tree-trunk sized thigh of Ace Anderson. Stick and move, stick and move ... a guerilla styled offense is how she hopes to take the advantage in the match. Not a bad strategy, but will it keep Ace Anderson at bay for long?

Jerry Andrews: Kelli playing it safe to begin with, Al. She knows that Ace’s power is FAR above her own and she’s answering in kind with agility and fluidity.

Al Laiman: Good strategy, but it’s not going to last forever. Ace is GOING to get his hands on her, and then we see what Kelli Starr is REALLY made of! She hasn’t come up against someone with Ace’s sheer size and power.

Ace goes back in with a heavy haymaker, but Kelli ducks completely under it ... letting Ace whiff over top of her and into the nearest corner. Rushing him, she plants a knee firmly into his lower back and kindly escorts him sternum first into the turnbuckles. Holding onto his shoulders, she buries several stiff and unforgiving knees into the lower back .... followed by a few boots to the legs and knees before backing away quickly.

The two are face to face again as Ace works the legs out ... attempting to rid himself of the annoying throb. Ace goes for a low double leg takedown but Kelli hops to the side to avoid ... but therein, making a huge mistake. Ace utilizing his own deceptive speed and reach advantage, he nabs her in mid-air by the waist. A bear hug hold ... squeezing ... wrenching ... tightening .... before giving a light hop and crashing to the mat with Kelli Starr underneath him. She’s sandwiched between the six-foot-six, two hundred and ninety pound behemoth and the uncaring canvas.

You can almost hear the air forced from her body as the two land, prompting the crowd to let out a visibly pained ‘Ooooooooh ...’.

Back to his feet in a flash, Kelli is struggling to make it to the ropes ... and Ace is letting her. He knows better than to follow her to the ropes THIS early in the match; there’s just too much chance of a sudden reversal or explosive reaction to his presence. He’s simply content to watch as she pulls herself to her feet with the aid of the ropes. He’s eyeing her ... sizing her up ...

... and then charges! Not coming head on, he diverts to the right at the last moment, preventing Kelli from reacting with a frontal counter and instead ... muscles him with a shoulder into the corner. He’s smothering her with his massive frame, but from underneath ... KELLI IS FIGHTING BACK! She’s got her hands locked behind his neck and ... pulling his head down, she’s able to control the movement well enough to throw several knees to the abdomen and lower sternum of Ace Anderson.

She’s actually TRADING STRIKES with Ace Anderson! And HOLDING HER OWN, no less.

Al Laiman: Look at that, Jerry! We ... actually may have under-estimated Kelli Starr! I thought Ace would tear her into little rainbow-colored taffy pieces but she’s managing to hang with him where it counts!

Jerry Andrews: And the fans are letting us know that they approve, will you listen to them? It’s unreal!

Her chin directly on Ace’s collarbone, keeping her hands locked ... she falls back and drops down ... pulling Ace off balance and forcing him head-first into the top turnbuckle. As he smacks the turnbuckle with his head, Kelli slips out from underneath Ace and allows Ace to turn and face her before rushing him. She hops at the last moment, feet placed firmly into the creases of Ace’s legs ... and falls back with hands locked firmly behind his head. A huge turn of personal momentum as Kelli lands a HUGE monkey flip on Ace that sends Ace hurtling halfway across the ring.

As Ace hits the mat with a jarring thud, Kelli is back on the attack. She mounts Ace from above, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving in almost too close to touch ... laying in body shot after body shot. Getting past the big man’s guard, she wreaks havoc on his almost impossibly muscled abdomen before the referee can get in there and break it up. Of course, with so much on the line ... he’s willing to concede a LITTLE. After all, who wants to see the finals end in controversy?

As Kelli is backed away from the fallen Ace, she’s straining to get away from the ref’s reach in order to press the attack. And press the attack, she does. Ace reaching his feet, she’s right there. Diving leg first at Ace, she splits at the last moment ... Ace catching a leg on either side of her waist. With a Herculean grunt, he hoists her almost VERTICAL in front of him ... only to have her duck and roll through, flipping him back first to the mat with a roll up.

1 ...

2 ...

... kick out at two from Ace and Kelli pops up to meet the returning Ace. A little overzealous, she wades into an Ace Anderson right hand that stops any and all momentum the candy-coated cyclone had garnered. Ace hoping to shake the cobwebs, he picks Kelli up and tosses her ... yes, literally TOSSES her ... across the ring and into the nearest turnbuckle.

Al Laiman: Nowwwwww we see the power of Ace Anderson.

Jerry Andrews: It’s not a pretty sight, Al ... and I’m sure it’s even WORSE to be on the receiving end.

Al Laiman: You should step into the ring with him sometime. Find out for yourself.

Ace moving to cut off Kelli’s escape from the corner, he rushes in with a back elbow that instantly forces Kelli into a slump. A second back elbow and Kelli is forcibly seated on the canvas. Several vicious and ugly boots later and the ref is in the break up the action ... which Ace does at the count of four. Good sportsmanship thus far, it looks as if it’ll be a relatively clean affair.

Kelli staggering slowly to her feet, she wipes a small bit of spittle off of her face ... her lips and jaw almost rearranged by the forearm and elbow of Ace Anderson. Ace and Kelli circling again, it’s almost as the match has been restarted as Ace goes to close the distance on a weakened Kelli Starr ... her able to stay out of the longer reach of Ace by side-stepping and throwing a back roundhouse kick to the gut of Ace Anderson that doubles him over in pain. A quick hop and Kelli Starr is knee-first into Ace Anderson’s back.

Using all her weight, she forces the gargantuan to the mat face first ... a muffled thud as she hooks Ace’s arms behind him in a double chickenwing position. Leaning back, she affects a modified surfboard to wrench the back and shoulders of her opponent. Leaning back as far as she can, she groans in exasperation as the back of her head smacks the middle rope ... sure that the referee would call for a clean break within the next few seconds; he does.

With Ace on the mat, Kelli presses in on the attack ... picking apart Ace’s weakened back and shoulders with stomp after stomp after stomp. Ace fighting to his feet even under the constant barrage of Kelli’s strikes ... he explodes out of nowhere and forces Kelli back into the ropes. Ace goes to grab her but Kelli slides through his legs to the other side. Instead of turning to face her, Ace takes off in a run towards the ropes and rebounds with incredible speed. Enough speed to catch Kelli off guard and absolutely LEVEL her with a bull rush lariat.

Al Laiman: Weeeeee MIGHT have to scrape her off the mat after that one.

Jerry Andrews: NOT a pretty sight, Al.

Ace going to collect his fallen opponent, Ace finds himself on the receiving end of a kick to the head ... followed by a sudden small package roll up!

1 ...

2 ...

... th-KICKOUT! The small package nearly does Ace in as both competitors return to their feet. Kelli is slower to get to her feet, but as soon as she does ... she is MORE than happy to show Ace ... with an inch between her index finger and thumb ... how close he was to losing it all. Ace nods in agreement and gives a light golf clap for Kelli’s talent before going to circle again.

The two locking up, Kelli snatches Ace’s arm with an arm wringer into a hammerlock. Behind Ace, she’s almost impossible for Ace to catch hold of but after a few moments, he’s able to sweep her by the ankle to her back on the mat. Kelli flat on her back, Ace can do nothing to stop her from kicking him square in the gluteus maximus and forcing him into the ropes. As Ace rebounds, Kelli drops and lets Ace bound right over her. As he ricochets a second time, she hopes to use the momentum to her advantage and hip toss him ...

... but Ace is able to stop mid-leap and block the hip toss attempt. Abdominal muscles straining, Kelli slaps his gut with a knife-edged strike and doubles him over. Showing off incredibly flexibility, she places a leg on the back of Ace’s neck and does a complete backflip to let her arm escape from Ace’s grasp. A quick snapmare out of nowhere and Ace is seated in front of Kelli. A low dropkick to the back of the head and Ace is reeling.

Al Laiman: Beautiful dropkick on the back of the big, bald target practice head of Ace Anderson, Jerry. Looks like she’s focusing on more of an upper-body region. Might be good strategy, but I think it’d be even better if she took out the legs.

Jerry Andrews: Who knows what’s going through her head, Al? She very likely has a better plan than we can scarcely imagine.

A quick somersault and Kelli snaps Ace’s head forward, stretching his lower back to its’ absolute limit as she completes her turn. The neck snap violently abrupt in its’ ending, she falls back quickly to capitalize on the falling Ace Anderson, but only manages to nab a two-count once his back hits the mat. As she returns to her feet and goes to pick up Ace (good luck eh?), he pulls her down to the mat and angles her into a vicious modified arm breaker. His legs wrapped around her arm, he twists and ends up on his stomach ... hoping to hyper extend the arm as he moves to a kneeling position ... and falls onto his back.

The submission locked in tightly, Kelli flails and kicks and does everything in her power to escape the hold. It’s simply im-freakin’-possible to drag near 300 pounds of dead weight being the size that she is. As she claws and scrapes her way to the ropes, or ANYwhere for that matter, the ref is right on top of the action to check and make sure Kelli isn’t submitting.

As she struggles tooth and nail, she refuses to submit ... and for her effort, finds her pinky toe clipping the bottom rope. The referee having no choice but to break up the hold, Ace holds on for the full five count before letting go. The ref admonishes him sternly, but he isn’t hearing any of it; he let go fairly. Smiling as he stalks his wounded prey, he wades in ... eyes hungry and ravenous.

Kelli waits until Ace is close enough ... aaaaaaaaaaaand ... she lets loose a straight kick directly to the knee cap of Ace Anderson. In one fell swoop, Ace has taken a knee in front of her and Kelli is back in the fight. A couple of stiff kicks to the side of the head and Kelli is able to crawl under the bottom rope ... one arm dangling and all ... to catch her breath and see about repairing the damage done.

Al Laiman: Smart move on the part of Kelli Starr, Jerry. She’s gonna need to alter her gameplan if she hopes to take it to Ace NOW. That arm looks ... well ... it looks pretty badly damaged.

She’s shaking it out ... and there’s Ace, following her outside the ring. He sense that he could have the match firmly in his control if he can just GET HER IN THE RING. Him stalking behind her, she makes it to the front of the makeshift commentary table before he grabs her around the waist ... holding her arms to her sides tightly before pivoting and dropping her to the floor.

The crowd winces at the impact, cheering for Kelli as she struggles to pull herself up with the help of the ring apron. Ace helping her the rest of the way, he whips her with great velocity into the barricade. Or so he thinks. Kelli bounds onto the barricade like a Rainbow Brite-branded species of spider monkey and waits until the very last moment before springboarding off ... through the air ... and backfirst into Ace.

The impact sending Ace off his feet, the pair crash hard to the ground ... although Kelli is relatively protected thanks to Ace’s body hitting the floor underneath her. Ace stirring as Kelli rolls into the ring, Ace takes his time to roll into the ring ...

DING DING DING!

... as the bell signals to end the match!

The bell sounds out before Ace can make it into the ring. Kelli, Ace and the entire crowd look to the referee in utter confusion. There are no count outs in matches contested under Genesis rules! Ace and Kelli move towards the referee in order to protest the decision when Mark Long comes over the loudspeakers to stop them in their tracks.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, the fifteen minute time limit HAAAAAAS EXPIRED!

The crowd boos heavily and now NOTHING keeps Kelli and Ace from moving towards the referee in absolute disgust.

Mark Long: THEREFORE, it is referee Eric Russo’s official decision that the match WILL CONTINUE! THERE WILL BE A WINNER!

The crowd lets out a sustained cheer at about fifteen THOUSAND decibels.

Mark Long: The match will continue under STANDARD RULES until a pinfall or submission is scored with NO time limit!

The crowd roars their approval as the ring bell sounds! Kelli and Ace wade into the center of the ring now, two weary gladiators on a tear. The match so very nearly close to the brink of being called a no contest, the adrenaline surges through both competitors the fight is started anew. Ace throwing several punches in a row, Kelli ducking and sidestepping each of them and answering with her own chops and kicks. It isn’t long before the large tree trunk legs of Ace Anderson give way ... and down to his knees he goes.

Jerry Andrews: Well, after a sudden break, we’re back to the action! These two talented athletes reaching the upper limit of --

Al Laiman: Jerry, I think the referee covered HIS OWN DECISION well enough! Stop rehashing and get to the point ... and that point is that we get to watch MORE of this epic struggle between two VERY DESERVING competitors!

As Ace drops to a kneeling position, Kelli wades in with punches and knife-edged chops and knees to the head and chest. Her hit-and-run tactic has paid off VERY well thus far and Ace has been unable to really close the gap with his power advantage. As she bounds off the ropes to get some added momentum, Ace rises from the mat out of nowhere and flattens her with a rising clothesline.

The impact slowing the pace down immediately, Ace goes on the offensive ... picking Kelli up with seemingly little effort. Whipping her into the ropes, he waits until she’s nearly back to him before exploding with a huge shoulderblock that sends her staggering to the turnbuckle ... even hitting the turnbuckles as if she had been Irish Whipped. The power of Ace Anderson is EXTRAORDINARY!

A running knee to the gut from Ace Anderson and Kelli is struggling to catch her breath in the corner. Ace Anderson attempts to give her some air as he whips her across the ring ... the rush hitting Kelli right as she gets to the turnbuckle. Hopping up, she plants firmly on the second rope and springboards off. But Ace is prepared for the move and catches her on his shoulder IN MID-AIR and ... using her own momentum, pivots 180 degrees and plants her back first onto the mat with a deadly spinebuster. Not quite an Exemplifier, but it might just be enough to put away Starr.

1 ...

2 ...

....three-NO!

Jerry Andrews: Kelli Starr, kicking out at the last moment from a beautiful spinebuster. Al, you’ve GOTTA give it up for Kelli Starr here tonight ... she came to fight and she came to WIN!

Al Laiman: Gotta give it up? Stop trying to be cool. And ... yes. Yes, Jerry. Kelli DID come to fight here tonight, and I don’t know if anything is going to stop her from walking out with a win. You’ve gotta believe she wants to win CONVINCINGLY and not by a fluke of the rules.

Kelli kicking out at the last moment, Ace is stunned to find the heart and drive of his opponent still beating ... as strong as his own determination to put her down. As he goes to stand, she’s right there with him .... clawing up his pants leg and pulling with all her might to make it to a standing position. Ace hoisting her into the air military press slam style, he holds her mid-air ... letting the crowd get their best photo opportunities and giving Kelli time to think about what’s coming next. And think she does, as she takes her future into her OWN hands and rakes the eyes of Ace Anderson.

Ace loosening his grip on her, she avoids the standard fall to the mat .... and flips around to Ace’s back, planting her knees dead between the shoulder blades and falling backwards. Bringing Ace down towards the mat with her, the sudden offset of balance causing Ace to fall, he lands backfirst onto Kelli’s knees ... a brutal lungblower that leaves Ace struggling for breath of his OWN as Kelli quickly hops over for the pinfall attempt.

1 ...

2 ...

.... three-NO!

The crowd lets out a shocked ‘OHHHHHHH!’ as Ace Anderson kicks out of the pinfall at 2 and 17/18. Even Kelli Starr is slightly shocked. The move was enough to put many normal men away, but on this night .... for THIS man? It wasn’t enough to put him away. She stands and watches as Ace begins to stir, writhing and attempting to work out the pain as he rises to a kneeling position.

Kelli looks slightly irritated, but nothing that a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE grin can’t fix. Hands up in boxer stance, she waits ... waits ... and a spin! SHE’S GOING FOR IT! Ace unable to move out of the way, Kelli’s fist slams ruthlessly into the jaw of Ace Anderson. CANDYGRAM for Ace Anderson! The impact dropping Ace into a crumpled pile on the mat ... Kelli literally JUMPS from her spot and lands on Ace Anderson for the pinfall attempt.

1 ...

2 ...

...

... 3!

Kelli jumps up to celebrate but ... the referee regrets to inform her of ACE ANDERSON’S LEG ON THE BOTTOM ROPE!

Kelli rushes the leg on the bottom rope and stops on it a few times, before turning back to the middle of the ring and Ace Anderson who is stirring under the bottom rope. Rolling up an invisible sleeve, she nods and gets Ace in her sights. As Ace makes it to his feet, it’s almost painful to watch as she bounces off the ropes opposite him. Spinning mid ring, she aims to let her momentum carry her through and add even MORE torque to her Candygram ...

... but Ace is ready and ducks under the backfist from Kelli Starr, leaving her to hang high and dry on the top rope. Ace with a desperation burst of speed races across the ring ... bounces off the ropes ... and literally sandwiches Kelli Starr’s neck between his bicep and the top rope! The crowd wincing at the impact, he grabs her and ... feeling the momentum shift ... whips her across the ring and into the nearest corner. Kelli smacking into the turnbuckles, he waits all of two seconds before taking off at top speed ... hopping into the air and coming down FULL BODY WEIGHT onto Kelli Starr.

Jerry Andrews: Could we be seeing ...

Al Laiman: Looks like he’s setting up for the TILT! If he hits THIS? It will be all she wrote, especially after THIS grueling match!

The avalanche splash literally SMOOSHING the poor woman, he whips her nearly lifeless form across the ring to the opposite set of turnbuckles. Taking off at top speed again, he rushes the corner and jumps ... only to find no Kelli Starr. No, Kelli is so out of it that she has dropped to a squatting position and MISSES the entire second impact of Ace Anderson, who crashes and burns face first into the steel of the cornerpost.

Ace hung out to dry, Kelli slips out from underneath him and Ace ... who is propped mostly on the second rope ... is on the receiving end of what might be the most unbelievable act of comparative strength this side of MACHINE! Using the height disparity and leverage, Kelli literally ducks under Ace ... wraps her arms around his waits ... and with enough SNAP manages to HOIST the massive Ace Anderson up and over her in a bridging German Suplex!

The crowd roars, but can barely be heard over the huge thunder of flesh on canvas as the referee dives in to make the count!

1 ...

.... 2

...

...

... 3!!!!!

The bell sounds and the crowd goes FREAKING BANANAS at the finale of the match.

The referee going to retrieve the Genesis belt and confer with Mark Long before returning to the ring with belt in hand. The two competitors having reaches a standing and kneeling position respectively, he brings them in to announce the all but foregone conclusion. Taking both competitors by the wrist, Mark Long’s voice booms over the P.A. system.

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall in SUDDEN DEATH ... and TWO TIME ICEMANN INVITATIONAL TOURNAMENT WINNERRRRRR .... ACE ANDERSOOOOOOOOON!

Winner: Ace Anderson via pinfall

The crowd is in shock, and even Kelli can’t help but look stunned by the final decision. The referee explains it to her and even points up to the PCWtron, where the replay is being shown. The final moments of the match ... Kelli Starr hoisting Ace over her and bridging into a German Suplex ... we see the ref making the count. We go to the OTHER side from the referee’s vantage point where we see that at the very last second, the weight of Ace Anderson and the length of the match has taken its’ toll on Kelli Starr and ... her shoulders are to the mat under the combined strain of it all ...

... while Ace Anderson’s left shoulder is off the ground!

The referee handing the Genesis belt over to Ace Anderson, Kelli Starr snatches it from the referee and stares at it for the longest time before looking to Ace ... back to the crowd ...

... and handing it over to the rightful owner and WINNER of the Icemann Invitational Tournament 2013 .... ACE ANDERSON!

Kelli beginning to to leave the ring to let Ace celebrate, Ace stops her and raises HER hand in a show of what can only be described as unmatched sportsmanship. Reaching into her own pocket, she turns away from everyone for a few moments ... once she turns back, she plants a totally non-sexual congratulatory bright pink kiss on Ace Anderson’s cheek and raises his hand one time for her OWN good measure before exiting the ring and letting Ace Anderson celebrate his well-deserved victory as we go to a hype video for the final match of the evening ... a rivalry that has been building for several weeks now.

Once the hype video is finished, we go back to the ring where Mark Long is waiting to kick off the main festivities of the evening!

****

[Murdoc]

MAIN EVENT

World Championship Ladder Match

"Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght (World ©) vs. Justin Kaard

Referee: Tyrone Little

Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen .... it is NOW TIME for your MAIN .... EVENT!

The crowd is white-hot as the lights begin to flicker before fading to black. The arena is bathed in darkness for several moments before the slow pulse of a single light on the stage draws in the attention. As the synthesizer kicks in, the lights begin to rise, pulsating to beat.

I won't suffer, be broken, get tired, or wasted
Surrender to nothing, or give up what I
Started and stopped it, from end to beginning
A new day is coming, and I am finally free!

The lights raise, flashing and chaotically spinning in every which direction as the crowd is assaulted visually with what could best be described as a seizure-inducing display. Justin Kaard steps through the curtains and instantly be begins to bounce up and down. The crowd is on fire, bathing him with their admiration as he paces at the top of the stage. Kaard rolls his head, paying little attention to the world around him as he fires himself up. On the grandest stage of them all, Justin Kaard seems to have no fear or hesitation over what is to come next.

Al Laiman: This man has had one hell of a year, and has gone through matches that would end most competitors’ careers. Here he stands, your number one contender for the PCW World Heavyweight Championship.

Jerry Andrews: It’s a unique match, and I think not one that many would have predicted a year ago. You had Grimm chasing NCM. You had NCM chasing Lantlas. When Showtime originally returned to in-ring competition, he didn’t fair that well. Kaard was going to war with Nacho Grande in what many have called the feud of year. Yet, here we are.

Run away, run away, I'll attack
Run away, run away, go chase yourself
Run away, run away, now I'll attack
I'll attack, I'll aa-WHOOOAAAAAAAAA

Kaard slowly makes his way down the ramp, eyeing the ladders that line the walkway and those that surround the ring. Focused, determined, he makes his way ringside. Once reaching the destination, he pauses. Bouncing on the ball’s of his heels; he quickly breaks into a sprint before leaping up and sliding across the apron on his right knee. As he does so, he uses his right hand to guide himself into a run, taking himself the rest of the length of the apron before launching himself up and over the ropes and landing in the ring.

Jerry Andrews: On paper, this looks like a match that is suited far more to Kaard than it is to Wryght. Kaard is smaller, built for this kind of match. He has the endurance, he has the speed, and he’s in the zone. While the champion, Michael Wryght, has more of a technical base. But what looks good on paper and reality are two different things.

Al Laiman: It’s true, as this match type is Showtime’s bread and butter. But Showtime also has the best motivator: the drive to remain champion. That’s not something you can prepare for. I mean, you can tell me all you want that Kaard is hungry, but in these types of matches, when a champion is backed into a corner, you see something primal come out of them.

Kaard stands at the top of the turnbuckle, crossing his arms over head in the air in an ‘x’ formation before leaping down. As he gazes towards the top of the stage, “Attack” by 30 Seconds To Mars ceases to play as the crowd grows restless, waiting for the entrance of the World Heavyweight Champion. That’s when the twang of the guitar takes hold, and the crowds jeers begin to reign down in anticipation of the champion’s entrance.

Down in the waves
She screams again
Roar at the door
My mind can’t take much more
I could never drown in

The crowd waits, and yet there is no sign of Michael Wryght. The song continues to play, as the arena is covered in a golden light. Justin Kaard begins pacing around the ring, and the crowd seems to be growing as restless as the challenger.

They wanna get my…
They wanna get my……..
GOLD ON THE CEILING!

Showtime steps through the curtains, with a smirk from ear to ear and his eyes hidden by a pair of reflective aviators. Chomping his teeth in an obnoxious manner, he has a rather large gold ladder in tow across his right shoulder, and the PCW World Heavyweight Championship upon his left.

Al Laiman: True to form, here is our World Heavyweight Champion!

Jerry Andrews: With his own ladder, lord. Is that his name on the ladder?

Al Laiman: Of course! This is his match!

The ladder looks to be accented with diamonds and has ‘Showtime’ written running the length of the latter on the outside of the legs. He pats the ladder proudly, making his way down the ramp with a confident strut as he doesn’t seem to care what the fans, or Kaard for that matter, thing of the display of grandiose. His body is covered in a sleeveless golden robe for the occasion, with black trim and lettering. As he reaches the ring, he carefully places his ladder off to the side. Glaring at a couple of fans who look to be reaching out for it. Walking up the stairs, he wipes his feet off on the apron before slipping between the top and middle rope. He is quick to whip off his coat and toss it ringside. Looking across the ring, he stares intensely at Kaard who continues to warm up.

Tyrone Little approaches Showtime, receiving the title belt from the champion as Mark Long takes center stage in the ring.

Mark Long: This is your Main Event for the evening, and it is a Laddddddeeeeeeeeeeer match!

The crowd roars, as both men stare at each other from across the ring, neither showing any sign of fear or anxiety.

Mark Long: First we introduce the challenger, standing five feet and nine inches, weighing in at one hundred and seventy-five pounds. He is the ‘Adrenaline King’ Justin Kaard!

Kaard pulls on the ropes, stretching out as his name is called. He steps away from the corner, shaking himself out as he simply gazes across the ring at Showtime. The crowd showers Kaard with adoration, he doesn’t let this shake his focus.

Mark Long: Now the champion, standing six feet and five inches, weighing in at two hundred and fifty-three pounds. He is the current reigning, defending, PCW World Heavyweight Champion – ‘Showtime’ Michael Wryght!

The crowd turns, yet Showtime simply continues to snerk stepping forward and spreading his arms out wide as though to present himself to the world so that they may awe at all of his glory. Tyrone Little checks both men, before raising the World Heavyweight Title high into the air. Slipping out of the ring, he calls for the bell ...

DING DING DING!

... and the match is underway.

Jerry Andrews: These two have been waiting to get their hands on each other, and the moment has finally come.

Al Laiman: I somebody’s face is going to become real good friends with the ladders.

Kaard rushes forward, exploding with energy as he unleashes a volley of blows on Showtime, who simply covers up as he’s backed into the corner. Elbows, punches, kicks, a couple headbutts, Kaard seems to be leaving it all in the ring. Showtime presses out of the corner, and counters, tossing Kaard into the corner. He steps back before stepping in with a hard back elbow. He holds the top rope and hits another hard elbow before peppering him with blow after blow – Kaard steps under one, Showtime turns around, Pele Kick!

Jerry Andrews: That had to hurt!

Al Laiman: I think all of those had to hurt.

Showtime stumbles away and his met with the running Kaard who throws himself into the air, hitting Showtime with a standing flipped senton body splash which sends them both crashing to the canvas. Kaard rolls with the momentum, slipping to the outside of the ring and going for the ladder.

Jerry Andrews: It was only a matter of time before they came into play and it looks like Justin Kaard isn’t wasting anytime.

Kaard scoops up one of the smaller ladders, looking to unleash some offense versus that of climbing to the title. Showtime is up, walking towards the ropes as Kaard rushes to the apron, hammering the ladder under the bottom rope and right into Showtime’s feet, sending him crashing down to the mat.

Al Laiman: Well, that’s one way to make sure Showtime has a hard enough time climbing.

Kaard slips beneath the bottom rope, picking up the ladder as he stands. As Showtime comes to his feet, he tossed the ladder at him – Showtime catches it! But Justin Kaard quickly pops up, dropkickng the ladder into Showtime’s chest! Wryght hits the mat, rolling to the outside as he holds curls up in he fetal position, stomping his feet as he does so.

Jerry Andrews: Justin Kaard has been on fire since the opening moments of this match. He really brought his ‘A’ game tonight.

Al Laiman: He had to. When you don’t have the title you’re the visiting team, champion has home court advantage and he’s got take that away from him. But he’s going to have to do a lot more than bounce around the ring like an idiot to take out the champion.

Kaard watches, waiting for Showtime to stand, and the champion begins to stir Kaard hits the opposite ropes. Showtime stumbles to his feet and turns only to see Kaard soaring of the top rope – Showtime lunged out-of-the-way as Kaard comes crashing down on the outside, crashing right into a ladder.

Al Laiman: Like I said, you need to do a bit more than jump around to fight a guy like Showtime. He’s as smart as they come, and we’re about to see that in action.

Showtime looks over at the heap that is Justin Kaard, and quickly mounts an attack. Stomping away at the broken body of Kaard, he quickly leads him by his hair to his feet before launching him back first into the nearby barricade. With a sickening thud, Kaard rolls away from it, holding his back, but Showtime isn’t done. Once again, he leads Kaard to his feet before launching him back first against the barricade. The slap of Kaard’s back against barricade echoes as the fans nearby seemed to grimace in pain as they watch.

Jerry Andrews: Sheer brutality from the champion, who looks to be taking advantage of Justin Kaard’s mistake.

Al Laiman: Of course, what is he supposed to do? Help him up? No! He’s breaking down Justin’s body early into the match to eliminate that high flying offense. If he’s already hurt, any screw ups later on in the match are going to eliminate him entirely from the equation.

Showtime grabs onto a nearby twenty-foot ladder and shakes it before pulling it down upon Justin Kaard – but Kaard rolls out-of-the-way. Stumbling to his feet, he is met with a running Showtime who barrels him over with a running knee strike to the midsection. Before Kaard can fall from the blow, he’s pulled into a short-arm clothesline from the champion who simply offers the jeering crowd a wild smile as he stumbles his way towards the ring.

Approaching his gold ladder, he picks it up and makes his way to the apron. He wastes no time sliding it under the bottom rope and following close behind it. Standing up, he begins to set up the ladder, taking his sweet time with it as he quickly glances out at the fallen Kaard to make sure he’s still down – he’s nowhere to be seen. That’s when Kaard comes from behind, leaping into the air and landing on Showtime’s shoulders. Kaard leans down, peppering Showtime’s forehead with punches before leaning back and tossing him with an inverted hurricanrana.

Jerry Andrews: You’ve got to wonder how split down the middle Marshall’s Law is over this match. The fans have clearly picked sides, what about the group?

Al Laiman: If they’re smart, they’ll keep it to themselves. No use disrupting the flow over something so trivial. But will they be able to look at each other the same after this match?

Kaard wastes no time in making his way up the ladder, but as he climbs higher it grows increasingly more and more wobbly, as he reaches the top of the ladder, it collapses into itself. Showtime simply pulls himself up, cackling as he points at his head. Kaard jumps from the top of the ladder, crashing and burning on the canvas to avoid becoming a heap with the ladder.

Al Laiman: What a plan! That’s what I’m talking about. Showtime might not always be the best competitor in the ring, but he’s always one of the smartest.

Wryght stumbles to his feet, smirking as he slips to the outside of the ring. He approaches one of the twenty footers again, scooping it up and turning around – Kaard comes flying over the top rope, going for a flipped senton but Showtime throws the ladder into Kaard!?

Jerry Andrews: Jesus Christ!

Kaard’s body impacts with the ladder, as both Kaard and the ladder come crashing into Showtime who is trying to cover himself up from the blow. Both men crash to the floor, but it’s obvious that Kaard took the brunt of the damage. Showtime climbs from beneath the heap of mangled flesh and metal, stumbling towards the apron as he catches his breath. Tyrone Little is quick to approach Justin Kaard, checking on him. His chest heaves up and down, yet he shows no signs of recovering. Showtime stumbles over to Tyrone, pushing him out-of-the-way as he drags Kaard to his feet.

Dragging him over to the steel stairs, he takes a handful of hair and uses it to toss Kaard’s face at the top stair, but Kaard places his hands in the way. Stepping into Showtime, he hits a hard elbow before planting him with a push kick. Showtime stumbles back and Kaard jumps on to the apron. Running, he leaps forward and catches Showtime with his legs, swinging his body around and tossing Showtime face first into the stairs!

Showtime looks as though he gets his hands up to block most of the blow, but the damage is still done, as he bounces off the stairs with a sickening thud and falls to the ground.

Kaard staggers to his feet, not wasting any time as he reaches for a ladder. Using it to steady himself, he waits for a moment before folding it up and throwing beneath the bottom rope. There seems to be no signs of life from Showtime other than his breathing. Kaard slowly follows the ladder into the ring, fighting his way to his feet while holding his ribs.

Jerry Andrews: That ladder shot really took it out of him.

Al Laiman: That was the point of it! Showtime doesn’t need to be up and alert, the lingering pain is constantly taking it’s toll on Kaard.

Kaard tries to set up the ladder, but can’t seem to find the strength, letting it lean against the top rope as he holds his ribs – and that’s when Showtime strikes. Slipping beneath the bottom rope, Wryght’s face is bruised and he looks to be bleeding slightly beneath his right eye. Showtime rushes up behind Kaard, spins him around, hooks an arm, and drops him head first on to the ladder!

Jerry Andrews: Right on the ladder!

Al Laiman: He’s returning the favor. Kaard threw him face first at the stairs, no he’s dropped Kaard face first on the ladder.

Kaard convulses violently, holding his face as he skitters across the ring. Showtime rises slowly, watching Kaard writhe in pain with a soft smirk. It is at this time, however, that the members of Marshall’s Law come through the curtain, with Skylar Marshall leading the charge. They don’t seem to be in any rush to approach the ring, but they’re definitely making their presence known. Noticeably absent from the gathering is that of Whitey Ford.

Jerry Andrews: I was wondering how long it would take for the hyenas to come circle the carcass.

Al Laiman: They’re simply out here to support their members. I think it’s a grand gesture and a show of respect to the two competitors.

The Freebooters look to attempt to make their way towards the ring, but Skylar quickly extends his arm, stopping them from approaching. Showtime looks towards the gathering, with a crazed smile as he gazes down at Kaard and begins to stomp away. The crowd turns entirely, pouring their hatred upon the gathering as a few items of trash begin to fly in the direction of Marshall and his cronies on the stage. Showtime stomps away on Kaard for a couple of moments more before approaching the ladder and taking it off the top rope. Taking a couple of steps back, Showtime begins to circle around Kaard, waiting for him to rise, and soon enough he does. Slowly, Kaard struggles to get to his feet and when he does he’s met with a ladder crashing into his face.

Jerry Andrews: There’s no way they can continue to function as a cohesive unit. This is absolute brutality. There was a bit of tension before, but this is just crazy.

Al Laiman: I’ve seen men go through worse and come out the other side unscathed.

Kaard’s body collapses on to the ropes, and Showtime steps away and begins to set up the ladder in a standing position. Separating the legs, he takes a step to the side and begins to climb, the rest of Marshall’s Law looking on from the outside anxiously.

Showtime nears the top as Kaard makes his way towards the ladder slowly. His face banged up and bruised, Kaard rests against the ladder for a moment before reaching up and slamming his fist against Showtime’s back. Showtime leans down and throws a kick at Kaard, but Kaard catches his foot. Kaard steps on to the ladder and slams the leg against it. Showtime cringes in pain but attempts to kick off Kaard again, only to have his leg slammed against the ladder once more – it begins to wobble, and the rest of Marshall’s law begins to make their way towards the ring.

Jerry Andrews: Are we about to see lines drawn?

Al Laiman: They’ve already been drawn, I just think we’re about to see how much they’re willing to put on the line to give either man the edge.

Kaard begins to climb up, going over Showtime and wrapping a leg around the ladder as he skims by the side of Showtime and begins to pepper him with kicks from his free leg. The ladder begins to lean, but doesn’t fall. Kaard drives a hard knee into Showtimes back, before climbing up and over him to the top of the ladder. Showtime reaches up, grabbing a handful of hair before dropping a hard forearm strike onto Kaard and tossing him down – but Kaard rolls off of the canvas.

Jerry Andrews: I think the only thing keeping Kaard going is sheer adrenaline, as his body looks like hell.

Al Laiman: He looks like he got run over by a sixteen wheeler, he’s running on fumes.

Kaard rushes back up the ladder, kicking it as it wobbles beneath Showtime, but he steps up, reaching for the title as Kaard shakes it again. It begins to tip, and Marshall’s Law begins to cautiously position themselves on the outside – suddenly, Whitey Ford comes through the curtains with both the International Title and the North American title in his hands. Skylar Marshall and The Freebooters look up the ramp and watch as ‘The Asshole’ makes his way down and joins them at ringside, a slight amount of tension becoming obviously apparent between the members.

Al Laiman: You know, Showtime might be the World Champion, but look at Whitey Ford. He’s now holder of both the North American Championship AND the International Title.

Jerry Andrews: No matter how this pans out, they hold almost all of the power in the company. Are they going to be able to work as a unit long enough for that to matter?

Showtime tries to hold on the ladder as Kaard continues to push it, but that’s when it begins to lean to the side.

Showtime lets go as the ladder falls, Skylar Marshall and Whitey Ford scramble, as the falling Showtime crashes into both men as they rush to catch him. The Freebooters, however, seem to spring to apron – urging Kaard to take advantage of the moment – and he does. Taking a deep breath, Kaard pushes the ladder back up and takes a moment to look up at the title.

Jerry Andrews: And the dividing line has never been more obvious within the faction!

Al Laiman: The hell are you talking about? It looks like they’re trying to do their best to support their brothers!

Kaard begins to scale the ladder, as Ford and Skylar help Showtime to his feet. Showtime totters towards the ring, pulling himself under the bottom rope as he approaches the ladder and begins to climb on the opposite side of Kaard. Kaard reaches the top first, reaching upwards, but soon he’s met with a hard blow to the abdomen from Showtime.

Jerry Andrews: They’re both at the absolute apex and something, someone, has got to give.

Showtime reaches forward, anchoring himself with his legs as he takes a hold of Kaard’s head and smashes it off the top of the ladder. Kaard instantly springs up, seemingly ignoring the pain as he leans in and hits an elbow strike across Showtime’s forehead. Showtime leans back, but quickly catches himself before he falls. Kaard throws a leg up and over, going for a roundhouse kick but his leg is caught!

Kaard throws his other leg up, reaching up for the rung and holding it with both hands as he wraps his legs around Showtime’s neck and begins to work on the clasp holding the title in place. Showtime slams both of his arms on to Kaard’s inner thighs, breaking Kaard’s hold and he begins to swing freely, holding on to the rung to keep him from falling. After a moment, he’s able to catch the ladder with his legs and reel himself in. Showtime reaches up, grabbing the rung as well, and he quickly takes a hold of the title as well.

Al Laiman: They’ve both got their hands on the title!

Exchanging blows, they switch control over the title back and forth, neither really seeming to get any control. Skylar Marshall and Whitey Ford have taken to one side of the ring, behind Showtime’s back, where The Freebooters have taken to the other, behind Kaard’s.

Jerry Andrews: They can’t seem to decide who they want to come down with the belt!

Al Laiman: I think they just want to see the belt come down, so they know who they’re backing moving forward. I don’t think it’s about who so much as it is about keeping the faction strong.

But that’s when it happens – the rung breaks, and the title falls, and so do both men as the ladder wobbles out of control and it all comes crashing down. Both men have their hand on the title as Tyrone Little calls for the bell without a second thought, only looking after the fact to see who has the belt: both men.

Winner: DRAW

****

Both men stand up, with their hands on the title, and neither seem to be ready to let go of the belt and give up their claim to the championship.

Al Laiman: This is exactly what Marshall’s Law didn’t need to happen.

Jerry Andrews: Somebody is going to have to give up their claim, for the good of the faction.

Words are exchanged between the two men, completely inaudible to the microphones in place as it becomes increasingly more and more heated between the two men. That is when Skylar Marshall, Whitey Ford, and The Freebooters make their way into the ring, surrounding the two men as they try to urge them to cooperate.

Jerry Andrews: They’re trying to establish some semblance of order, but I think they’re barking up the wrong tree.

Al Laiman: The grandest stage of them all, and the main event ends in a draw. The fans have turned on us, Jerry.

The crowd is going crazy, and the trash has begun to fly. Neither men seems to want to let go of the title belt, and the faction has been divided in two. Whitey Ford and Skylar Marshall are standing to the side of Kaard, urging him to release the title belt and give it to Showtime. The Freebooters are standing to the side of Showtime, pleading with him to let Kaard have the belt. The ring is covered in trash as the crowd is absolutely rioting over the finish for the match, looking for Skylar Marshall to do something more than simply urge for Kaard to release the belt.

Jerry Andrews: That’s it folks, this is how the night ends…

Al Laiman: This is just disgusting.

The watermark pops in the corner, as the fans at home and those within attendance are left with the scene of Marshall’s Law torn in half, trying to get one of the men to release the title belt.

**CLICK**

<sub>New Breed def. The Flying Freebooters via pinfall
Q def. Anson via DQ
Grimm def. Non Compos Mentis via pinfall
Whitey Ford def. Gabriel Cross via KO
Rick Majors & Andy D def. Dillon Durst & Tyler Scott via pinfall
Justin Michaels d. Skylar Marshall via DQ
Ace Anderson def. Kelli Starr via pinfall in Sudden Death overtime
Michael Wryght & Justin Kaard draw via belt retrieval?

I want to thank Kris, Justin, and Luis for their help with the results this cycle. And to anyone who sent in segments, it's VERY much appreciated. GOOD JOB EVERYONE!</sub>